A  ROYALTY  PLAY 


Seven-Twenh-Eight 

CASTING  THE  BOOMERANG 

BY 

AUGUSTIN  DALY 


Fitzgerald  Publishing  Corporation 


SncccMor  to 


if;    Dick  &  Fitzgerald 
New  York    I- 


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L161— H41 


Seven  -Twenty-Eight 

OR 

CASTING  THE  BOOMERANG 


JV  £»mAs  of  CMMv,  in  T^r  Jfcts 

(From  the  German  of  Von  Schonthan) 


BY 

AUGUSTIN  DALY 


As  acted  at  Daly's  Theatre  for  the  first  time^  February  24^  /883 


{Extract  from  Webster's  Dictionary.') 

BooM-BR-ANG,  H.  A  very  singular  missile  weapon,  used  by  the  natives  of  Australia; 
when  thrown  from  the  hand,  with  a  quick  rotary  motion,  it  describes  very  remarkable 
curves,  according  to  the  manner  of  throwing  it,  and  finally  taking  a  retrograde  direction, 
so  as  to  fall  near  the  place  from  which  it  was  thrown,  or  even  very  far  in  the  rear  of  it. 
In  iiuxperienctd  hanets.  the  Botmurang  recoils  upon  the  thrower,  sotketimes  with  very 
serious  results. 


CorVRIGHT,   1897,   BY  AuGUSTIN  DALY 


FITZGERALD   PUBLISHING   CORPORATION 

successor  to 

Dick  &  Fitzgerald 

18  Vesey  St.,  KeW  York 


SEVEN -TWENTY- EIGHT, 

Notice.  —  The  acting  rights  of  this  play  are  reserved  by  (he  author 
Public  representation  of  it,  professional  or  amateur,  can  be  made  only 
with  the  consent  of  the  author  or  his  agents,  and  on  payment  of  royalty. 
Application  for  performance  should  be  made  to  Richard  Dorney,  i8i6 
Harrison  Ave.,  Morris  Heights,  New  York  City. 

"Any  person  publicly  performing  or  representing  any  dramatic  or  musi- 
cal composition  for  which  a  copyright  has  been  obtained,  without  the  con- 
sent of  the  proprietor  of  said  dramatic  or  mi^sical  composition,  or  his  heirs 
or  assigns,  shall  be  liable  for  damages  therefor,  such  damages  in  all  cases 
to  be  assessed  at  such  sum,  not  less  than  one  hundred  dollars  for  the  first 
and  fifty  dollars  for  every  subsequent  performance,  as  to  the  court  shall 
appear  to  be  just.  If  the  unlawful  performance  and  representation  be 
wilful  and  for  profit,  such  person  or  persons  shall  be  guilty  of  a  misde- 
meanor and  upon  conviction  be  imprisoned  for  a  period  not  exceeding 
one  year. "  —  U.S.  Revised  Statutes,  Tiile  60,  chapter  3,  section  4966. 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS  AND  ORIGINAL  CAST. 

COURTNEY  CORLISS,  a  gentleman  of  leisure,  •with  a  theory  concerning  boomerangs  ; 

employing  his  idle  time  in  the  pleasant  pursuit  of  hunting  a  face,  Mr.  John  Drew. 
MR.  LAUNCELOT  'S.A^GVS,^,  a  retired  party  who  becomes  the  victim  of  the  inev- 

itable,  and  is  bound,  Mazeppa-like,  to  his  wife's  hobby  ,  .  .  Mr.  James  Lewis. 
PAUL  HOLLYHOCK,  his  son-in-law,  devoted  to  his  potato-beds  until  the  Tempter 

comes Mr.  Yorkb  Stephens. 

SIGNOR   PALMIRO  'Y PM^Vi^\^\,  late  Maitre  de  Ballet,  Covent  Garden,  now  on 

a  mission  and  searching  for  an  original Mr.  William  Gilbert. 

A  POSTMAN,  ON  HIS  ROUND Mr.  E.  T.  Webber. 

PROFESSOR  GASLEIGH,  inventor  and  founder  of  a  refuge  for  the  outcasts  of  the 

/*"* Mr.  Charles  Leclercq. 

JOBBINS,  Hollyhock's  farmer Mr.  W.  H.  Beekman. 

^^?' ,  HYPATIA    BARGISS,  a   lady  possessed  of  ancestors,  aspirations,  and  a 

«^*'^ • Mrs.  G.  H.  Gilbert. 

^^^"'^  HOLLYHOCK,  her  daughter,  with  a  grievance,  and  who  becomes  at  once  her 

husbands  tempter  and  victim Miss  Virginia  Dreher. 

FLOS,  the  much  sought  "  7-20-8  " Miss  Ada  Reman. 

I'S'^^ilE.,  with  yearnings  beyond  lier  station     . Miss  Helen  Levton. 

The  action  of  the  first  and  second  acts  passes  at  Bargiss's  country  place, 
somewhere  in  the  Empire  State. 

The  action  of  the  third  and  fourth  acts  passes  in  the  city  near  Central 
Park.  

Act  I.— The  Theory  of  the  Boomerang.  The  Search  is  begun,  and 
the  "  Scattered  Leaflets  "  arrive. 

^^^^?"T'^"^  Serpent  in  the  Garden.  Serpent  — Mr.  Gasleigh. 
The  boomerangs  are  cast. 

^^'^ }}}'  —'^^'^^^'^^^"^'^^^  OF  THE  Metropolis.  The  Drama  of  the 
Missmg  Lamp  and  the  Romance  of  the  Forsaken !  A  novel  illumi- 
nation. 

Act  IV.  — The  Boomerang's  Return.  His  Lordship  proposes,  and 
Destmy  is  fulfilled.  v  v    v        >      *»* 

Time  of  Representation.  —  Two  Hours  and  a  Half^ 


0%l.  COSTUMES. 

Corliss.  Acts  I.  and  11.  —  Fashionable  summer  suit  (sack  coat);  straw 
hat.  Act  III.  — Evening  suit ;  overcoat ;  silk  hat.  Act  IV.  — Black  cut- 
away coat  and  waistcoat ;  cassimere  trousers  ;  derby  hat  ;  overcoat ;  gloves. 

Bargiss.  Acts  I.,  II.,  and  III. —Trousers  and  waistcoat;  dressing- 
gown.  Flowing  robe,  long  beard,  and  very  tall  hat,  for  "  High  Priest  " 
costume  at  end  of  Act  III.  Act  IV.  — Ordinary  morning  suit  (frock  coat) ; 
overcoat;  hat.    He  wears  a  half -bald  gray  wig,  with  whiskers  to  match. 

Hollyhock.  Acts  I.  and  II.  —  Soft  felt  hat  ;  corduroy  trousers  tucked 
into  farm  boots;  shooting-jacket.  Act  III. — Full  evening  dress,  with 
outer  garment  for  street;  silk  hat.  "  Conspirator's  "  dress  to  close  Act 
III.,  big  black  cloak,  broad-brimmed  slouch  hat,  etc.  Act  IV. —Ordi- 
nary business  suit. 

Tamborini.  Dress  suit  throughout  ;  wears  order  in  buttonhole  ;  crush 
opera  bat.  Long  linen  duster  only  at  ist  entrance.  Act  I.  He  wears  a 
black  curly  wig,  with  mustache  and  imperial  to  correspond. 

Postman.  Conventional  postman's  uniform,  with  cap.  Waterproof 
cape  in  Act  III. 

Gasleigh;  Business  suit,  of  a  style  several  years  behind  the  times, 
rather  worn  ;  rusty  derby  hat. 

JOBBINS.     The  ordinary  rig  of  a  farm  superintendent. 

Mrs.  Bargiss.  Act  I.  — -  Thin  figured  morning  dress  ;  summer  hat, 
etc.  Act  II.  —  Same,  without  hat.  Act  III.  —  Home  evening  dress; 
cloak  and  hat  for  end  of  act.     Act  IV.  —  Street  or  travelling  dress. 

Mrs.  Hollyhock.     Acts  I.  and  II.  —  Summer  morning  dress  ;  no  hat 
Act  III.  — ^  Handsome  dinner  or  evening  dress ;  wraps  for  street,  etc.     Act 
c~  IV.  —  Morning  gown. 
^  Flossy.     Acts  I.  and  II.  —  Summer  morning  dress  ;  hat,  etc.     Act 

^    III.  —  Home  evening  dress.     Act  IV.  —  Morning  dress. 
^         Jessie.     Neat  muslin  gown  ;  linen  collar  and  cuffs  ;  lace  cap. 


.S 


■]  PROPERTIES. 

-3  Act  I.  —  Table  and  chairs  c.     Sofa  L.     Chair  up  R.     Other  chairs 

\  placed  conveniently  about  stage.     Whistle,  papers,  and  letter  for  PosT- 

j^  MAN.     Cards,  in  case,  and  coins  for  Corliss.     An  art  catalogue.     Large 

^  mastiff  dog,  and  card,  for  Flossy.     Letter  (in  envelope)  and  paper  for 

5  Mrs.  Hollyhock.     Books  on  shelf  r.    Magazine  for  Jessie.    Spectacles, 

j^  for  Bargiss,  on  table  c.     Bell,  lamp,  and  flowers  in  vase  on  table  c. 

5^  Carpet  down.     Whip  for  Hollyhock. 

"-  Act  II.  —  Furniture,  etc. ,  as  in  Act  I.    Books,  in  basket,  for  Mrs.  Bar- 

Giss.     Bust  of  Dante  for  Jessie.    Letters  for  Mrs.  Hollyhock  and  CoR- 

N^i  Liss.     Four  pens  and  notebook  for  Bargiss.     Document,  in  large  wal- 

c  let,  for  Gasleigh.     Envelope  and  paper  for  Hollyhock.     Manuscripts 

^  for  Bargiss  and  Mrs.  Bargiss.    Watches  for  Corliss  and  Tamborini. 

i<  Sandwich,  glass  of  wine,  and  napkin  for  Bargiss.     Sandwich,  glass  of 

wine,  and  handkerchief  for  Gasleigh. 

■3  Act  III.  —  Shade  and  heavy  curtains  at  window.     Mirror  R.     Desk, 

^  chair,  and  revolving  bookcase  L.     Books  in  bookcase.     Papers,  writing- 

;  materials,  bust  of  Dickens,  and  two  candelabra  on  desk.     Bust  of  Shake- 

^  3 


speare  and  two  Candelabra  on  mantel.  Table  and  easy-chairs  in  front  of 
mantel.  Chandelier  c.  Divan  c.  Piano  L.  Chairs  R.,  R.  c,  c,  and  r, 
of  divan.  Carpet  down.  Several  books  on  table  c.  Artificial  flowers  for 
Jessie.  Pair  of  shoes  for  Jessie  to  bring  on.  Cards,  in  case,  and  coin 
for  Corliss.  Candelabrum  (not  lighted)  and  some  letters  and  papers  for 
Jessie.  Four  pens  for  Bargiss.  Large  handbill  for  Hollyhock.  Check 
for  Bargiss.  Several  folded  napkins,  and  some  cracked  ice  in  a  bowl,  for 
Jessie.  Red  book  for  Gasleigh.  Student-lamp  (not  lighted)  for  Jessie. 
Book  for  Flossy,  Letter  for  Mrs.  Hollyhock.  Bell  on  table  c.  Mrs. 
Bargiss's  cloak  and  hat,  for  Jessie  to  bring  on.  Noise,  rain,  wind,  thun- 
der and  lightning,  off  stage.  Small  shaded  lamp  (lighted)  for  Flossy. 
Door-bell  off  L.  c.  Whistle,  mail-bag,  and  handkerchief  for  Postman. 
Matches  on  mantel.     Coin,  in  pocket,  for  Flossy. 

Act  IV.  —  Furniture,  etc.,  as  in  Act  HI.  Card  on  salver  for  Jessie. 
Large  bouquet,  notebook  and  pencil,  for  Tamborini.  Bolt  inside  door 
R.  3  E.  Shawl  up  stage  for  Bargiss.  Chair  at  door  L.  c.  Letter  and  book 
for  Mrs.  Bargiss.  Spectacles  for  Bargiss.  Bargiss's  hat  and  overcoat 
up  stage.  Rose  in  vase  on  piano.  Large  clothes-basket  filled  with  books. 
Handkerchief  for  Bargiss.  Eyeglasses  for  Mrs.  Bargiss.  An  open  and 
a  sealed  telegram  for  Tamborini. 


ABBREVIATIONS. 

In  observing,  the  player  is  supposed  to  face  the  audience,  c.  means 
centre;  R.,  right  ;  L.,  left  ;  R.  c,  right  of  centre  ;  L.  C,  left  of  centre  ; 
C.  D.,  centre  door  ;  R.  D.,  right  door  ;  L.  D.,  left  door  ;  D.  R.  c,  door  right 
of  centre  ;  d.  L.  c,  door  left  of  centre  ;  D.  F.,  door  in  the  flat ;  c.  D.  F., 
centre  door  in  the  flat ;  R.  D.  F.,  right  door  in  the  flat ;  L.  D.  f.,  left  door 
in  the  flat;  i  G.,  2  G.,  3  G.,  etc.,  first,  second,  or  third  grooves,  etc.;  I  E., 
2  E.,  3  E.,  etc.,  first,  second,  or  third  entrances,  etc.;  R.  u.  E.,  right  upper 
entrance  ;  L.  u.  e.,  left  upper  entrance  ;  UP,  up  stage  or  toward  the  rear  ; 
DOWN,  down  stage  or  toward  the  audience;  X.,  means  to  cross  the  stage; 
X.  R.,  cross  toward  the  right ;  X.  L.,  cross  toward  the  left. 

&•  &•  C«*  C«  Xm  C*  Xm 


SEVEN  -  TWENTY  -  EIGHT ; 

OR, 

'casting  THE  BOOMERANG. 


ACT  I. 


SCENE.  —  Vestibule  or  sitting-room  in  a  comfortable  country 
mansion.  A  chimneypiece  c.  Bay-window  at  l.  c. 
Archway  and  wnservatory  reached  by  two  steps  r.  c. 
Doors  R.  I  E.,  R.  3  E.,  and  l.  2  e.  Table  and  chairs 
c.  Sofa  L.  The  plcue  has  an  old-fashioned  but  very 
homelike  air.  The  curtain  rises  to  the  air  of  "  Wait  for 
the  Wagon."  The  country  Postman  appears  at  the  bay- 
window^  L.  c,  and  gives  his  usual  sharp  whistle.  He 
leans  half  through  the  half-open  sash  of  the  bay-window, 
ENTER  Jessie  from  r.  c.  READ  Y  Mrs.  Bargiss, 
to  enter  r.  c. 

Jessie  (a  spry,  neat  maid-servant^    Coming,  coming ! 

Postman.  Lively,  then  I  {Hands  down  papers  and  a  let- 
ter^   There  you  are. 

Jes.    That  all? 

Postman.     Till  next  time.     {EXIT,  l.  c.) 

Jes.  (coming  forward  and  sorting  the  packages).  There's 
the  Tribune  for  Mr.  Bargiss,  and  the  Bazar  for  Mrs.  Bargiss, 
and  —  arid  the  Agriculturist  for  Mr.  Hollyhock,  and  one 
letter  for  Mrs.  Hollyhock.  What  a  sight  of  newspapers  we 
do  take  in,  and  how  few  letters  1    But  this  place  is  out  of  the 


6  Seven -Twenty -Bght  I 

world.     Nobody  wastes  letters  on  us.     (Zajs  the  papers  en 
table,  and  keeps  the  letter  in  her  hand.) 

ENTER  Mrs.  BARGiss,/r^w  conservatory ,  r.c,  with  summ» 
hat,  etc.     Middle-aged  and  sprightly. 

Mrs.  Bargiss.     Has  the  post  come,  Jessie? 

Jes.  Yes'm.  Nothing  but  one  letter  for  Mrs.  Hollyhock. 
{Crosses  to  's..) 

Mrs.  B.  {getting  l.  of  table).     And  no  papers? 

Jes.     Oh,  yes'm.    The  regular  lot  come  as  usual. 

Mrs.  B.  (looking  over  papers  at  table).  Wasn't  there  a 
magazine  with  them?  A  new  magazine  with  an  old-gold 
cover  ? 

Jes.     No'm.     Not  as  I  see.     . 

Mrs.  B.  If  the  postman  brings  one,  fetch  it  to  me  before 
anybody  else  sees  it. 

Jes.    Very  well'm. 

Mrs.  B.  I  expect  it  to-day.  You'll  know  it  by  the  very 
peculiar  color  of  its  cover  —  a  sort  of  orange  or  yellow.  Do 
you  know  what  old-gold  is  ? 

[READ  Y  Corliss,  to  enter  r.  c. 

Jes.  No'm.  I  know  what  old  silver  and  old  greenbacks 
look  like. 

Mrs.  B.  Well,  it's  like  nothing  you  ever  saw,  then. 
You'll  know  it  directly. 

Jes.     Please'm,  what's  the  name  of  it? 

Mrs.  B.  "  Scattered  Leaflets."  (Crosses  to  R.)  Can  you 
remember  the  name  ? 

Jes.     "  Scattered  Leaflets."     Oh,  yes'm. 

Mrs.  B.  Don't  forget,  then  —  and  bring  it  to  me  in- 
stantly.    (EXIT,  R.  lower  door.) 

Jes.  Yes'm.  Instantly.  I've  heard  that  word  before. 
They  want  everything  instantly  in  this  house.  (Goes  up  and 
looks  off  through  the  bay-window^  L.  c.)     My  sakes  1  if  there 


Ot,  Casting  the  Boomerangf*  7 

ain't  a  strange  young  gentleman  coming  up  the  walk  —  and 
coming  right  in,  too !  Well,  he's  cool !  {Retreats  down  c.) 
Who  knows  —  the  beaux  may  be  coming  after  Miss  Flossy 
at  last.  Oh,  I  do  hope  and  pray  they  be !  It  goes  to  my 
heart  to  see  a  young  thing  like  her  wasted  on  nobody,,  the 
way  she  is.     {Gets  l.) 

ENTER  Corliss,  r.  c.y  through  the  conservatory  ;  looks  about 

him  and  comes  down. 

Corliss  (r.).  Ah  I  {Seeing  Jessie.)  I  believe  this  is 
Mr.  —  Mr.  —  {politely  and  evasively^. 

Jes.  Mr.  Bargiss's  ?  Yes,  sir.  (Aside^  He's  real  nice 
—  I  hope  he's  a  beau. 

Cor.     Mr.  Bargiss's  —  thank  you  —  and  Mrs.  Bargiss's,  of , 
course  ? 

Jes.  Yes,  sir.  There's  Mrs.  Bargiss,  too.  Shall  I  tell 
them,  sir? 

Cor.     Wait  a  moment. 

Jes.     Oh,  I  can't,  sir.     I  have  no  time. 

Cor.  {touching  her  chin).  What,  so  young  —  and  "  no 
time"  already? 

Jes.  {crosses  to  r.).  Oh,  Mr.  Bargiss  gets  in  an  awful  tem- 
per if  he  sees  any  of  us  idling. 

Cor.  Bargiss  must  be  a  tyrant.  Not  the  least  like  the 
smiling  visage  that  beams  upon  us  from  this  silver  dollar, 
eh  ?     {Gives  her  apiece  of  money  ^ 

Jes.     I'll  compare  the  likeness  when  I  see  him.     {Pockets 

it:) 

Cor.  Now,  answer  me  a  question.  {Takes  a  card  from 
his  pocket^  Look  at  this.  It's  a  crest,  you  perceive  —  a 
shield  with  a  two-headed  — 

Jes.     a  two-headed  goose  on  it. 

Cor.  a  double-headed  swan.  Tell  me,  have  you  ever 
seen  a  crest  like  that  anywhere  ? 


8  Seven -Twenty -Eght; 

Jes.  (r.).  I  thought  it  was  a  goose.  Why,  Missis  has 
that  on  her  notepaper  and  envelopes. 

Cor.    Your  mistress  ? 

Jes.    Yes  —  old  Missis. 

Cor.     Old  — how  old? 

Jes.     I  guess  she's  near  fifty. 

Cor.  That's  sufficient  {Puts  up  card,  disappointed 
Going  tip  R.) 

Jes.     I  guess  she  thinks  it's  sufficient,  too.     {Going.) 

CoR.  {pauses).  Stop  a  moment  (r.  Comes  back.)  Tell 
ne,  are  there  any  other  ladies  in  the  family  ? 

Jes.  Oh,  yes.  There's  the  two  daughters.  One's  mar- 
ried to  Mr.  Hollyhock  —  and  the  other  is  Miss  Flossy. 

Cor.  {interested).    Miss  Flossy?    Young? 

Jes.    Oh,  yes. 

Cor.     How  young  ?  ^ 

Jes.     Eighteen. 

Cor.     Pause  there.     Does  she  own  a  very  large  dog  ? 

Jes.  iguickly).     Oh,  yes.     Max. 

Cor.  Now,  look  at  this  picture  attentively.  {Produces  an 
art  catalogue?)  It's  the  illustrated  catalogue  of  the  Academy 
for  '82.  Page  32.  No.  728.  "  Portrait  of  a  I^ady."  Do  you 
know  the  young  lady  ? 

Jes.    Why,  it's  Miss  Flos  and  Max. 

CoR.  {replaces  the  pamphlet  and  seizes  her  hand,  producing 
from  his  pocket  another  coiti).  If  I  ask  you  to  swear  by  this 
image  of  our  bright  Goddess  of  Liberty  not  to  mention  my 
inquiries  to  any  one,  will  you  do  so  ? 

Jes.     Do  you  intend  to  stop  and  see  the  family  ? 

CoRi     I  came  for  that  purpose. 

Jes.  {crosses  to  r.).  Then  I  won't  say  a  word  unless  I  find 
I  ought  to,  you  know. 

Cor.     Of  course.     Is  it  a  bargain  ? 

Jes.  Yes,  sir.  {Pockets  the  coin,  and  asidt,  in  a  Jluftef  of 
delight^     He's  come  after  ^I&SM  Ftos  along  ol  ke^  poiitmlt 


Or,  Casting-  the  Boomcrangf.  9 

Oh,  how  romantic !  I  wouldn't  spoil  it  for  the  world.  {Look- 
ing off,  L.  c.)  Look !  There's  Miss  Flossy,  her  own  self,  in 
the  garden  now.     Shall  I  go  and  tell  her  you're  here  ? 

Cor.  By  no  means.  I  shall  introduce  myself  to  her 
father. 

Jes.  Yes,  sir.  I'll  tell  Mr.  Eargiss  at  once.  {Going; 
aside^  Oh,  ain't  it  romantic,  and  just  too  lovely  1  (JSX/Tf 
R.  C,  wi^A  letter^ 

\READ  Y  Flossy,  with  mastiff,  to  enter  r.  c. 

Cor.  {steps  to  window,  l.  c).  How's  this  ?  How's  this  ? 
The  young  lady  is  a  distinct  blonde,  and  the  portrait  at  the 
Academy  is  that  of  a  brunette.  She  looks  this  way.  The 
same  eyes.  What  a  pair  of  eyes !  I  recognize  the  eyes. 
Heavenly!  Now  she  looks  again.  I  have  found  her  at 
last.  {Comes  down.)  And  now  that  I  have  found  her,  what 
of  it,  my  boy  ?  Is  it  worth  my  while  to  come  on  this  expedi- 
tion ?  I  see  a  picture  —  I  fall  in  love  —  and  I  act  like  a 
fool.  Rush  on  to  danger  without  counting  the  cost.  {Sits 
on  sofa,  L.)  Let  us  look  at  this  thing  calmly.  If  a  man 
wants  to  buy  a  watch,  how  carefully  he  examines  it  before 
purchasing.  It  must  be  real  gold,  admirable  as  to  manu- 
facture, thoroughly  tested  and  perfect  as  a  timekeeper.  We 
call  for  a  guaranty,  take  it  on  trial,  and  return  it  if  it  doesn't 
go.  All  this  trouble  for  a  watch.  (Flossy  appears  passing 
window,  leading  a  large  mastiff^  When  it  comes  to  a  wife, 
who  guarantees  the  genuineness  of  the  metal  ?  How  are  we 
to  know  about  the  works  in  her  ?  {Taps  his  hearty  Who'll 
take  her  back  if  she  doesn't  go,  or  goes  too  fast  ?  {Rising^ 
Conclusion :  Be  on  your  guard,  my  boy  —  be  on  —  ah,  here 
she  is  I  {Salutes  Flossy  very  respectfully  as  she  ENTERS 
from  grounds,  r.  c,  through  the  conservatory,  in  morning  dress, 
hat,  etc.)     Good-morning,  Miss  —  Miss  — 

Flossy  (r.).    Good-morning.    {Distantly^    Are  you  wait 
ing  for  papa  ? 

Cor.    Not  exactly.  / 


to 


Seven -Twenty -Eight}  '      -'^A\ 


Flos.  No?  Oh!  It's  my  brother-in-law,  Mr.  Holly- 
hock?    {Going  a  step  to 'Si^ 

Cor.     Not  quite  that,  either. 

Flos,   {puts  dog  off  'Si.\  d.).     Oh,  then  —  {going). 

Cor.  Then  what  do  I  want  ?  I  see  you  are  naturally 
curious  to  — 

Flos,  {towards  him).  Not  at  all  —  but  we  so  seldom  see 
anybody  here  —  it's  quite  an  event  when  we  have  a  call. 
We  live  in  such  seclusion. 

Cor.     I  really  sympathize  with  you. 

Flos.  It's  quite  a  humiliating  confession,  isn't  it  — 
to  acknowledge  I  find  it  dull?  I  ought  to  have  all  sorts 
of  resources ;  all  well-bred  young  ladies  are  supposed  to 
have. 

Cor.  (l.).  Utter  nonsense !  Seclusion  is  very  well  for 
age  ;  to  youth  it  is  a  prison.  The  glare  of  the  ballroom  is 
for  a  young  girl  what  the  sunlight  is  for  the  flower, 

Flos.  Please  tell  my  father  and  brother-in-law  that. 
They  won't  believe  me. 

Cor.  I  shall  certainly  do  so.  In  the  meantime,  permit 
me  to  tell  you  what  brought  me  here,  and  ask  your  sym- 
pathy and  aid.  I  heard  that  the  neighborhood  contained  a 
hidden  treasure.  \^She  looks  at  him,  amazed. 

Let  us  say,  for  instance,  a  celebrated  piece  of  tapestry  — 
or  a  rare  bit  of  china  —  which  I  am  anxious  to  possess. 

Flos.     It's  quite  interesting. 

Cor.  You  find  it  so  ?  Thank  you.  I  thought  you  would. 
I  wish  to  keep  the  matter  secret  for  the  present,  and  I  need 
some  pretext  for  remaining  just  long  enough  to  examine  my 
treasure  before  making  an  offer. 

Flos.     That  seems  reasonable. 

Cor.  You  find  it  so  ?  Thank  you.  I  thought  you  would 
I  have  brought  a  letter  of  introduction  to  your  father. 

Flos,  {going  up  r.).    I  left  him  in  the  garden. 

Cor.  (getting  r.).    Thanks.     Permit  me  one  word. 


.  ^ii'i':^-*- 


Or,  Castmgf  the  Boomerang;*      '  tl 

■i  ■,   .     _ ,  ■■■_■-.  ■■-.-■■  *  ■■■'    ' 

Flos,  (turns  down  l.).     Certainly. 

Cor.  Thank  you  again.  I  thought  you  would.  This  let- 
ter will  not  insure  me  more  than  half  an  hour's  stay  in  this 
house.     What  can  I  do  after  that  ? 

Flos.  (l.).     Call  again  to-morrow. 

CoR.  No.  I  want  a  good  excuse  for  staying,  and  I  am  a 
poor  hand  at  forcing  an  acquaintance. 

Flos,  (l.,  mischievously).     You  don't  do  yourself  justice. 

CoR.     That  means  you  think  me  rather  impudent. 

Flos,  (self-possessed).  Rather  imprudent.  Suppose  I  were 
\o  reveal  your  plans  to  the  lord  of  the  manor  ? 

CoR.  You  won't  do  that.  In  fact,  I  dare  to  count  upon 
your  assistance. 

\READY  Mrs.   Hollyhock,  with  letter^  to  enter 
R.  3  D.  V 

Flos.     Why,  I  don't  even  know  you.  \ 

CoR.  And  yet  you  would  trust  me.  In  fact,  you  trust  me 
already.  For  the  present,  content  yourself  with  my  honest 
face  and  —  my  name.     (Hatids  her  his  card.) 

Flos.  It  will  end  in  your  getting  me  into  a  scrape.  I 
don't  want  to  be  found  out  in  anything  foolish. 

CoR.  Anything  foolish  ?  My  dear  young  lady,  have  you 
ever  listened  to  old  people  when  they  talk  among  themselves? 
Do  so  1  You  will  find  that  the  dearest  recollections  of  their 
youth  are  the  follies  they  committed.  They  are  the  ever- 
greens in  the  wreaths  of  memory.  I  beg  of  you,  then,  don't 
neglect  to  lay  in  a  stock  for  your  old  age.  Do  something 
now  to  laugh  over  heartily  then.  You  can  do  nothing  wiser. 
Come,  then  I  Just  one  little  good-natured  folly  to  begin  with. 
Keep  my  secret.  Thank  you.  I  thought  you  would.  I'll  go 
and  find  your  father.  Remember,  when  we  meet  again,  for- 
get that  we  have  met  before.     Au  revoir.     (EXIT,  r.  c.) 

Flos,  (sees  him  off;  then  comes  down).  That's  the  first  per- 
son I've  seen  in  six  months  that  I  could  speak  a  sensible 
word  with.     (Reads  card.)    "  Courtney  Corliss."     Isn't  i* 


12     W'--  Seven -Twenty -Bght  I 

stTznge  that  nice-looking  people  always  have  such  pet^ 
names.  - 

ENTEB  Mrs.  Hollyhock,  r.  3  d.,  with  a  letter,   •       ' 

Mrs.  Hollyhock  (r.).  Here's  a  letter  for  you,  Flos.  It 
name  enclosed  to  me.  {Takes  letter  from  envelope  and  throws 
envilopc  carelessly  on  table  c. ;  comes  down  l.) 

Flos,  (crosses  to  r.,  looking  at  signature^.  It's  from  Mr. 
Palette,  the  painter. 

Mrs.  H.  (l.).     Unfortunately. 

Flos.     VVhy  so? 

Mrs.  H.  Candidly,  I  blame  myself  in  this  matter.  We 
met  him  at  Nahant  last  fall,  and  he  painted  your  portrait. 

Flos.  Mamma  knew  about  it,  and  was  present  at  all  the 
sittings. 

Mrs.  H.  Yes,  but  papa  knew  nothing  about  it.  We 
shouldn't  have  allowed  Mr.  Palette  to  send  it  to  the  Acad- 
emy. I  tremble  to  think  what  papa  and,  worst  of  all,  my 
husband,  would  say  if  they  knew  your  portrait  was  on  exhi- 
bition. 

^    Flos.  (r.).    They  needn't  know.    We've  kept  it  secret  so 
far. 

Mrs.  H.  Who  knows  how  much  longer  we  can  do  so? 
There  1  {Produces  a  paper^  There's  a  notice  of  it  in  the 
papers  already. 

Flos,  {delight^.     Of  my  picture  ? 

Mrs.  H.  Listen.  (Reads.)  "The  gem  among  the  por- 
traits is  No.  728.  A  young  girl  seated,  with  a  gigantic  mas- 
tiff at  her  feet.  The  artist  persistently  refuses  to  disclose  the 
original  of  his  charming  picture."        .  I  '    - 

Flos.     Well,  you  see  he  is  discreet. ,  "* 

Mrs.  H.  Wait.  {J^eads.)  "  Yet  there  is  a  trifling  circum- 
stance which  might  give  an  ardent  admirer  a  clew  to  the 
mystery.     On  the  embroidered  yf(r>5«  worn  by  the  lady  there 


\ 


'r'  '..: 


Of^  Casting  the  Boomerangf*  tZ 

appears,  among  heraldic  arabesques,  the  figure  of  a  two-        :^ 
headed  swan."  r.-^W' 

Flos.  (r.).     Mamma's  crest !  * 

Mrs.  H.    Yes.    The  double-headed  swan  of  mamma's  very   r 
distant  if  not  apocryphal  English  ancestors.     Suppose  papa   ^  <K"^ 
should  read  that  article —  r  ::? 

'  Flos.  But,  Dora,  the  whole  thing's  so  harmless.  I'm  sure 
I'm  not  in  love  with  Mr.  Palette.  He  vowed  it  would  make 
his  reputation  if  I  sat,  with  Max,  for  a  picture  —  and  I  didn't 
want  to  crush  him  at  the  outset  of  his  career.  It  was  very 
flattering,  and  I  felt  like  his  muse.  Some  day,  when  he  gets 
into  the  "  Encyclopaedia  of  Painters,"  it  will  be  mentioned 
that  his  first  successful  picture  was  a  portrait  of  Miss  Flor-  ,~f 

ence  Bargiss  —  and  so  I'll  get  into  the  Encyclopaedia  too,  ' 

and  be  immortal  with  him.    {Crosses  to  i..)  ,       ..^^ 

Mrs.  H.  (r.).     Well,  if  you  get  in  there,  my  husband  will]       -  - 
get  a  divorce.  ^ 

Flos.  That's  because  he's  an  awful  prig,  and  appreciates 
nothing  but  sheep  and  pigs. 

Mrs.  H.  {sighs).  Unhappily.  Well,  what  does  your 
painte'r  say  in  his  letter  ? 

[READY  Hollyhock,  with  whip,  to  enter  r.  c. 

Flos,  {laughs).  I  forgot  all  about  the  letter.  {Reads.) 
"  Dear  Miss  Bargiss,  —  Your  portrait  has  made  a  sensation. 
I  had  a  quite  singular  experience  with  it,  however.  When 
it  was  finished,  I  became  sensible  that  your  face  lacked  a 
certain  indispensable  expression."  Well,  I  declare  !  "There 
was  a  certain  something,  unfortunately,  very  commonpiac- 
about  it,  which  I  tried  in  vain  to  idealize."  {Furious.) 
Upon  my  word  ! 

Mrs.  H.     Candid,  I  must  say. 

Flos,  {reads,  l.).  "  At  last  I  tried  the  effect  of  substitut- 
ing for  your  own  hair,  which  is  of  the  ordinary  blonde  type, 
and  worn  too  severely,  a  mass  of  rich,  dark  curls.  The 
effect  was  magical.    The  likeness,  it  is  true,  suffered  greatly, 


J4-  Seven -Twenty -Eight; 

but,  from  an  artistic  standpoint "  —    ( Throws  the  letter  down.) 

I  could  cry  with  vexation.     (65>.)  i 

Mrs.  H.  {crossing  to  l.  ;  ficks  up  letter).     I  should  say  so  I 

Flos.  (r.).     And  I  was  so  proud —  I  thought — oh  ! 

Mrs.  H.  {soothingly).     There  —  don't  waste   a   thought 

more  on  it.  [Flossy  bounds  away  from  her,  to  l. 

ENTER  Hollyhock,  r.  c,  in  farm  boots  and  shooting-jacket^ 

carrying  a  whip. 

Hollyhock  (r.).  I  say,  Dora,  I  wanted  —  {stops). 
What's  the  matter?     Have  you  two  been  quarrelling? 

Mrs.  H,  {crossing  to  c).     No,  no. 

HoL.     What  letter  is  that  ? 

Mrs.  H.     Nothing  important. 

\READ  Y  Mrs.  Bargiss,  to  enter  r.  i  d. 

Hol.     Let  me  see  it. 

Mrs.  H.  {crossing  to  l.,  pockets  letter).  Don't  be  in- 
quisitive. 

Hol.  {to  Flossy).     You've  been  crying. 

Flos,  {crossing  to  "s..,  pettishly).     Well,  I  know  I  have. 

HoL.     What  for  ? 

Flos.  Because  I'm  unhappy.  Because  I'm  kept  here 
secluded  and  imprisoned  like  a  nun. 

HoL.     Hol-lo! 

Flos.  And  because  I'm  bored  to  death,  (r.)  If  you 
don't  want  a  young  girl  to  die  of  the  blues,  you  must  give 
her  something  to  amuse  her.  The  glare  of  the  ballroom  is 
what  I  want.  The  flowers  pine  for  the  sunlight  —  so  do  I. 
{Stage  R.) 

HoL.  (c).  There's  lots  of  sunlight  here.  I  get  on 
amazingly. 

Flos,  {up  to  him).  You !  You  are  laying  up  a  nice  old 
age  for  yourself  !  I  don't  believe  you  ever  committed  a 
folly  in  your  life.  Where  will  your  memories  come  from  — 
where  are  your  evergreens  ?     {EXIT,  r.  i  d.)  ' 


;iiAt"i#'^\i.-,»><::..L*I*&>i*V».JAr*..'l.i'»'ti.ii.--,Sr^ 


-        :    ;  ;  Oiv  Casting;  tiic  Boomerang^.  15 

HoL.     I  don't  comprehend.     What's  the  matter  with  her  ? 
Mrs.  H.     Oh,  it's    some   freak.     Goodness   knows  what 
-she  thinks  about. 

[READ  Y  Bargiss  and  Corliss,  to  enter  r.  c. 

ENTER  Mrs.  Bargiss,  r.  i  d.,  looking  back  after  Flossy. 

Mrs.  Bargiss  {crossing  to  c).  Dora,  has  the  postman 
brought  anything  for  me  yet  ?  [Paul  saunters  up  r. 

Mrs.  H.     Not  that  I  know  of,  mamma. 

Mrs.  B.     I  wish  you  would  ask  about  the  place.     There 
must  be  something. 
^,  Mrs.  H.     I  will,  mamma.     {EXIT,  r.  c.) 

Mrs.  B.     It's  unaccountable.     {Goes  to  bay-window,  l.  c.) 
[Hollyhock  looks  after  Dora,  and  comes  down. 

HoL.  {looking  on  the  table,  has  found  the  envelope  that  Dora 
threw  down,  which  he  examines  carefully).  There  is  some- 
thing in  the  wind.  Flossy  crying,  and  Dora  hiding  a  letter 
from  me.  This  must  be  the  envelope.  Postmarked  New 
York,  and  addressed  to  my  wife.  {Forward^  In  a  man's 
handwriting.  I  say,  mother,  do  you  know  Dora's  correspon- 
dent in  New  York  ? 

Mrs.  B.  (l.  c,  at  window ;  not  turning).  No.  Why  do 
you  ask  ? 

HoL.  {evasively).  Nothing  in  particular.  (Aside.)  She 
shall  tell  me  whom  that  letter  is  from.  (Pockets  envelope.) 
There's  father  yonder.     I  wonder  if  he  knows. 

Bargiss  appears  at  back.,  in  conservatory,  in  dressing-gown, 
with  Corliss.     They  stop  in  conversation. 

Bargiss.     Ah  !    There's  Hollyhock,  now.    He'll  give  you 
the  information,  no  doubt.     (Calls.)     Paul !     One  moment ! 
HoL.     Certainly.     (Goes  up^ 

[Bargiss,  in  pantomime,  introduces  Corliss  to  him, 
and  instructs  him  to  show  Corliss  over  the  grounds. 
They  go  oj^  together,  and  Bargiss  comes  down. 


i6  Seven -Twenty -Eigtit  J  .^     ( 

Mrs.  B.  (a/  windowy  L.  c,  speaking  as  Paul  goes  up).     I       [ 
hope  the  postman  hasn't  dropped  the  "  Scattered  Leaflets  "       \ 
on  his  way.     If  it  doesn't  arrive  to-day,  I'll  telegraph  to  the 
publisher.     This  suspense  is  becoming  unendurable.  ■  -li 

Bar.  (r.).     Ah,    Hypatial      There  you   are.     What  are      v^ 
you  doing  at  the  window?  j- 

Mrs,  B.     I'm  waiting  for  the  mail.  '; 

Bar.  Oh,  it'll  come  in  time.  Small  loss  if  it  doesn't. 
Nothing  in  the  papers. 

Mrs.  B.  (meaningly).     Perhaps  there  may  be  this  time.  ' 

Bar.   {surprised).     Why  —  what's  going  on  ? 

Mrs.  B.  (l.).  Something  that  concerns  me  —  deeply. 
Something  that  ought  to  concern  you  —  and  I  hc^e  it  will. 

Bar.     Go  on,  Hypatia  ;  let's  know  all  about  it. 

Mrs.  B.  I  intend  it  as  a  surprise  —  and  yet  it  may  be 
better  to  prepare  you. 

Bar.  You  surprise  me  already.  Go  on  and  prepare  me 
fully. 

Mrs.  B.  {earnestly).  Launcelot,  how  often  have  I  told 
ywi  how  much  it  has  pained  me  to  see  you  wasting  your 
time  and  talents  in  idleness  ? 

Bar.  (r.).     Idleness,  my  dear  ?     I  get  up  at  five  every        ; 
morning. 

Mrs.  B.     And  go  to  bed  at  nine,  as  obscure  —  as  un-       "^ 
known  —  as  poor  and  as  small  as  you  got  up. 

Bar.     Hypatia  1 

Mrs.  B.  {interrupting  him,  and  with  a  lofty  air).  And  you 
were  made  for  something  better  and  greater,  Launcelot. 

Bar.  Are  you  getting  on  that  old  subject  again  ?  {Crosses 
to  L.  and  sits  on  so/a.) 

Mrs.  B.  (l.  c).  You  are  simply  neglecting  your  duty 
and  burying  your  talents. 

Bar.     Whew  —  w!     {Sits  down  "L^ 

Mrs.  B.  Look  at  what  you  have  done  —  your  writings  -% 
your  poetry  — 


^.ifSl..  »,„A-'? 


■^Jt^Sl  . 


Ot,  Casting  tlie  Boomerang.     ^  if^ 

■   -^st       -  ^    ■  •  -  -'  - 

Bar.    Now,  my  dear —    (Rising.) 

Mrs.  B.  (replacing  him  back).  You  won't  talk  me  out  of 
it  this  time.  There  is  something  great  in  you.  Your  pen, 
in  days  gone  by,  flowed  with  inspiration. 

Bar.  {on  so/a,  l.).  I  confess  I  used  to  waste  ink  writing 
stuff  I  thought  was  poetry.  Before  I  married  you,  I  sinned 
largely  in  that  respect.  Stuff,  my  dear — all  stuff  —  and 
poor  stuff,  too.     I'm  ashamed  of  it.     (Crosses  to  r.) 

Mrs.  B.  Stuff?  Your  verses  to  me  when  we  were  en- 
gaged ?  Never !  I  read  them  over  the  other  day,  and  they 
brought  tears  to  my  eyes. 

Bar.  (r.).  You  don't  mean  to  say  you  kept  that  rubbish  I 

Mrs.  B.  (lachrymose).  Every  line  you  ever  wrote.  In 
my  desk.  But  that's  not  the  place  for  them.  They  belong 
to  the  world. 

Bar.  (r.).  That's  what  I  thought  thirty  years  ago,  when 
I  sent  them  to  the  magazines. 

Mrs.  B.  And  they  were  declined  with  thanks.  It's  the 
fate  of  all  unknown  authors.  Thank  goodness,  there's  a 
change  now.     (Strides  proudly  to  l.) 

Bar.  (looking  after  her).    A  change  now  —  how  ? 

Mrs.  B.  Professor  Gasleigh  has  started  a  new  maga- 
zine. , 

Bar.     Gasleigh?    Never  heard  of  him. 

Mrs.  B.  What  of  that  ?  He  never  heard  of  you.  Yet 
you  are  somebody  —  so's  he.  *. 

\^READ  Y  Flossy,  with  card^  and  Jessie,  to  enter 
R.  c. 

Bar.    Excuse  me  — 

Mrs.  B.  His  magazine  is  called  "  Scattered  Leaflets."  It 
is  started  to  introduce  unknown  genius.  He  distinctly  an- 
nounces in  his  prospectus  that  he  wants  no  contributions 
from  so-called  celebrities.  He  proposes  to  publish  the 
efforts  of  his  subscribers  only.  -f 

Bar.  (r.).    Oh!    Very  good  dodge.    (Crosses  to  h^ 


.  :.     ,:■;;■■-■■  ---'^■'  _  ^         _  V| 

J8  Seven -Twenty -Eight  J    •      "^^  j 

Mrs.  B.  I  have  subscribed  to  the  magazine,  and'  sent  ' 
him  a  collection  of  your  fragments.  I  expect  the  magazine  1 
containing  them  to-day. 

Bar.     I  hope  he  sends  your  bundle  back  unprinted. 

Mrs.  B.  He  won't.  He  knows  a  good  thing  when  he's 
got  it. 

Bar.     That's  what  I'm  afraid  of. 

Mrs.  B.     What's  that  ? 

Bar.  Never  mind.  I  don't  want  to  see  the  paper.  Don't 
bring  it  to  me.     {Up^ 

Mrs.  B.     But,  Launcelot ! 

Bar.  I  won't  look  at  it.  I  won't  have  anything  to  do 
with  it.  I  don't  want  to  be  roasted  by  those  press  fellows 
at  my  age.  \READY  Tamborini,  to  enter  r.  c. 

Flossy  appears^  with  Jessie,  at  r.  c. 

Flossy  {looking  at  a  card  she  holds  in  her  hand).  Papa, 
look  at  this.     (Sends  Jessie  oJC) 

Mrs.  B.  {eagerly).     Has  it  come  ? 

Flos.    Who? 

Mrs.  B.  (^<f/x  c).    The  "  Scattered  Leaflets." 

Flos.  No  ;  but  a  gentleman  wants  to  see  papa,  and  has 
.sent  his  card  with  this  written  on  it. 

Bar.  {downy  feeling  for  spectacles').  Where  are  my  specta- 
cles ?     Read  it. 

Flos,  {reads).  "  Signor  Palmiro  Romano  Giovanni  Tam- 
borini," and  he's  written  in  pencil,  "  Formerly  Maitre  de 
Ballet  de  Covent  Garden ;  now  commissioned  on  behalf  of 
Lord  Lawntennis." 

Bar.  {crosses  to  r.  ;  takes  card).  What's  all  that  ?  What 
does  he  want  ? 

Flos.  I  don't  know,  papa,  unless  you've  had  some  tran- 
sactions with  the  Ballet  in  London, 

[Bargiss  turns  away^  confused. 
or  with  Lord  Lawntennis.  '  \ 


'.i'*.,i*^.i^.- v*.w?ftie.  ifj^j^**'Li^ 


Ot,  Casting  the  Boomerang;  I? 

Mrs.  B.  (l.)    Signer  Tamborini !    He  must  be  an  Italian. 
Flos.  (l.).    Of  course.       [Jessie  ushers  in  Tamborini. 

Tamborini  appears^  r.  c,  in  a  long  duster^  under  which  is  a 
dress  suit — order  in  buttonhole — opera  hat.  He  takes 
off  duster  and  hands  it  to  Jessie.  She  puts  it  on  chair ^ 
and  EXIT,  r.  c. 

Tamborini  (shuts  his  hat  and  looks  at  his  attire).  All  right. 
(Comes  down  r.  c.  with  measured  dancing-step.  Bows  grandly, 
pressing  his  hat  with  both  hands  against  his  left  breast,  and 
then  extending  it  to  arm's  length.  First  addressing  Mrs.  Bar- 
Giss.)  Signoral  (71?  Flossy.)  Signorinal  (71?  Bargiss.) 
Signer! 

Bar.  (c).     Good-morning. 

Tam.  (r.  c,  with  strong  accent  and  much  gesture).  I  beg  1 
thousand  pardons  if  I  make  a  mistake  in  the  language  — 

Bar.     Oh,  we'll  understand  one  another. 

Mrs.  B.     Unfortunately,  we  don't  speak  Italian. 

Tam.  That  is  no  matter,  Signora.  (Profound  bow.)  I 
inow  a  little  English,  and  if  I  can't  think  of  a  word,  I  know 
how  to  help  myself  out.  I  have  been  Master  of  the  Ballet  at 
the  Royal  Opera  for  twenty  years.  If  a  word  sticks  in  my 
stupid  head  (gesture),  or  my  stupid  tongue  (gesture),  I  make 
it  out  with  my  hand  (gesture).  If  I  want  to  say  Te  voglio 
bene,  I  do  so.     (Makes  ballet-gesture  of  loving.) 

Flos.  (l.).     Oh  !     So  that  means  love  ? 

Tam.  (applauds).  Bravo,  Signorina !  Then  when  I  want 
to  say  Sposare,  I  do  so.    (Gesture  of  proposing  in  marriage.) 

Mrs.  B.     You  are  proposing  marriage.    It's  quite  plain. 

Tam.  Divorzo,  I  do  so.  (Gesture  of  taking  wedding-ring 
from  his  finger  and  throwing  it  away.) 

Bar.  Ah  I  Divorce  !  Just  so  !  That's  very  plain,  too. 
Ah,  there's  a  great  deal  that's  very  plain  in  the  ballet.  I 
always  liked  the  ballet.  Especially  Taglioni^ — ah,  what  a 
dancer  she  was !     (  With  enthusiasm^ 


20  Seven -Twenty -Eighti 

Tam.  Oh,  oh,  oh,  oh  !  Signor,  do  not  say  that !  (Gesture 
of  negative  with  hand.)  Old  school  —  old  style  I  You  should 
see  our  Prima  Ballerina  in  Milano.  Oh,  oh !  {Gesture  of  ec- 
stasy.) La  Braggazetta.  She  is  an  artiste.  Ah !  (Throws 
kisses  with  both  hands.)  With  Taglioni  art  was  small  —  so. 
{Indicates  a  few  inches  from  his  hand^  But  the  puffs  were 
big  —  sol  {Opens  both  arms?)  With  Braggazetta,  the  puffs 
are  small — so.  {Indicates  about  an  inch  from  the  floor ^  But 
the  art  —  sot  {In  his  ecstasy ^  he  pulls  up  the  nearest  chair^ 
stands  on  it^  and  indicates  the  height  of  art  with  his  hat  in  his 
upheld  hand.  Instantly  seeing  his  impropriety,  he  descends. 
Bowing  with  effusion.)  Ladies,  I  beg  {gesture)  for  pardon. 
Pardon  me.  When  I  speak  of  my  art  I  always  lose  my  head. 
{About  to  replace  the  chair?) 

Mrs.  B.     If  you  please,  keep  the  chair,  and  be  seated. 

Tam.  If  you  allow  me,  I'll  take  the  liberty.  {Takes  chair 
and  offers  it  quickly  to  Mrs.  Bargiss,  who  declines  and  sits  on 
sofa.  He  offers  it  to  Flossy,  who  declines  and  stands  by  her 
mother.  He  offers  it  to  Bargiss,  who  sits  with  a  grunt.  Then 
finally  he  takes  his  own  chair,  and,  after  looking  to  see  if  the 
others  are  seated,  sits,  himself,  with  a  pompous  pose?) 

Bar.  {looks  at  card).  You  are  commissioned  on  behalf  of 
Lord  Lawntennis  — 

Tam.     Si,  Signor  — 

Bar.     Yes,  I  see. 

Tam.  And  I  have  called  by  his  Lordship's  command,  to 
ask  you  a  most  submissive  question.     {Bows.) 

Bar.     What  is  it  ? 

Tam.  His  lordship  is  a  fool  {general  surprise  ;  gesture  and 
checks  himself)  on  the  subject  of  art.  He  comes  to  travel  in 
America.  He  sees  at  the  Academy  National  of  Design  the 
portrait  of  a  young  and  beautiful  lady  {gesture)  with  a  big  — 
big  {gesture  of  size)  dog. 

Flos,  {alarmed,  aside  to  Mrs,  Bargiss).     Mamma  I 

Mrs.  B.  {same).     Sh  I 


^  -^^  -'  -  usifL'-J^f^^mik.  ^ 


Oiv  Castfngf  the  Boomerangs*  ^^ 

Tam.  His  lordship  say  to  me,  "  Palmiro, "  he  say  to  me, 
"  I  am  anxious  to  know  who  the  handsome  young  lady  in  the 
portrait  is  and  where  she  lives.  Btit  the  artist  gives  no  in- 
formation. Therefore,  search,  Palmiro  J  Like  a  hunter  to 
^e  hounds.  Avantil  Seek!  Seek,  Palmiro !  {Pantomime  of 
hounds  on  scent,  but  not  leaving  his  chair.) 

Bar.     Well,  did  you  find  the  young  lady  ? 

Tam.  Ah,  Dio  mio,  Signor !  That  was  not  so  easy.  But 
Palmiro  is  cunning  fellow.  I  seek  here  —  I  seek  there  — 
and  finally,  right  in  the  corner  of  the  picture  —  what  you 
think — I  see  a  date.  Nahant,  1881  —  Nahant!  {Gesture.) 
That  is  a  watering-place.  {Makes  figures  in  the  air  with  his 
fingers.)  1881 1  That  is  a  clew.  Oh,  what  a  head  I  have ! 
I  go  by  train  to  Boston  —  to  Nahant.  {Gesture  and  sound  0/ 
train.)  I  ask  the  big  people  {gesture)  and  the  little  people 
{gesture). 

Mrs.  B.     And  did  you  learn  the  young  lady's  name  ? 

Tam.  No,  Signora ;  but  I  learned  the  young  lady  who  was 
portrayed  {gesture)  was  the  daughter  of  a  gentleman  —  who 
live  in  this  place. 

Bar.  {starts  up).  In  this  place !  {To  Mrs.  Bargiss.) 
You  were  at  Nahant  last  year. 

Mrs.  B.  {rises).  Why,  my  dear,  you  don't  for  one  mo^ 
ment  suppose  — 

Flos.  (l.  c. ;  all  rise).  Do  you  think  it  was  I,  papa? 
{Archly) 

Tam.  (r.  c.  ;  quickly).  No,  no  !  The  Signorina  is  not  the 
original.  The  lady  in  the  picture  has  quite  a  different  head 
of  hair.     All  dark  —  all  curls  — 

Flos,  {helping  him).     Curls  like  that,  eh  ? 

Tam.     Si,  Signorina.     Grazia  tanto. 

Bar.     Then  it  can't  be  Dora,  either. 

Flos.     Of  course  not. 

Tam.    So?    That  is  bad.     {Shakes  his  head  sadly) 

Bar.     I  beg  your  pardon,  it's  not  bad  at  alL    It  wouldn't 


g^^^   "^gsi^^?^?-'    -    ;f  ^7,7  ••^-  "••T^'-^^^:<^pr^p?v 


22  Seven -Twenty -Eight; 

suit  me  to  have  my  daughters  sit  for  artists'  models.    .We 
don't  allow  such  things  in  this  country,  Signor. 

Mrs.  B.  (l.).     Certainly  not.     {Crosses  to  Tamborini.) 

Tam.     Ma  Dio  mio.     What  will  I  do  !     Adesso  I 

Bar.  You  can  inquire  in  the  neighborhood.  There  are 
plenty  of  fools  in  it. 

Flos,  (crosses  close  to  him).  I  think  Mrs.  Van  Horn  has  a 
niece  with  black  hair.     She  wears  it  in  ringlets. 

Tam.  Da  Vero  I  Ah,  Signorina,  you  take  a  stone  from 
my  heart.  (Gesture  to  Bargiss.)  Grazia  tanto,  Signor. 
(Going  up  c.)  I  run  stante pede  to  the  neighbor.  (Turns  at 
arch.)     What  is  their  name  ? 

Bar.  Van  Horn.  Horn.  (Action  of  taking  a  drink?) 
It's  the  next  house  but  two. 

Tam.  Ah,  Capisca  I  Mr.  Van  Horn.  (Gesture  of  blow- 
ing.)  Horn  —  that  is  easily  remembered.  Adio,  Signor 
—  Signora  —  Signorina  —  Complimenti  Signore.  (EXITy 
quickly,  r.  c.) 

\^READ  Y  Corliss  and  Mrs.  Hollyhock,  to  enter 
R.  c. 

Mrs.  B.  (l.,  aside).     Thank  goodness  ! 

Bar.  The  fellow's  a  regular  jumping-jack  —  but  what  a 
scare  he  gave  me  !  If  one  of  you  girls  had  been  so  foolish 
as  to  get  yourself  painted  for  show — I'd  —  you  know  how 
I  hate  this  rushing  into  public.  (Goes  up  irritated,  and 
walks  about.) 

Mrs.  B.  (crosses  to  c).     Now,  Launcelot  — 

Flos.  (l.).  O  mamma,  what  a  pity  it  is  we  can't  tell 
him  ! 

Mrs.  B.     Don't  bother  me,  you  great  baby.     (Up') 

Flos.  It's  pretty  good  for  a  baby  to  have  a  lord  fall  in 
love  with  her  picture.     (Crosses  to  r.) 

Bar.  (suddenly  comes  down  r.  of  table ;  and  taking  up  a 
magazine,  pitches  it  aside).     It's  too  bad  1 

Mrs.  R    What  ails  you  now  ? 


i-^-.--^- 


:?-'  Or,  Casting  the  B<»me«u.^        "  P 

[Flossy  looks  at  books  on  shelf  "Sl. 

Bar.  I  can't  get  your  *'  Scattered  Leaflets  "  out  of  my 
head.     Which  of  my  poems  did  you  send  him,  anyway  ? 

Mrs.  B.     "The  Pansy  Chain." 

Bar.  {reflectively).  Hum  1  Hum !  They  are  not  so  very 
bad,  fortunately.  Particularly  that  "Sonnet  to  the  Moon- 
beam Shining  on  my  True  Love's  Eyelid  1 "  {Suddenly^ 
Why  the  deuce  doesn't  the  confounded  magazine  come? 
The  suspense  and  uncertainty  make  me  nervous.     {Walks - 

about. ) 

> 
Corliss  appears  at  r.  c.  with  Mrs.  Hollyhock. 

Mrs.  B.     Shi 

Corliss.  Pardon  me  for  disturbing  you  again.  Your 
son-in-law  bade  me  wait  for  him  here. 

[Flossy  is  next  to  Dora,  r. 

Bar.  Certainly  I  Certainly  !  Mrs.  Bargiss  —  my  wife. 
My  daughter  {introducing)^  Mr.  Corliss.  Thinks  of  settling 
in  our  vicinity.     Tired  of  the  city. 

Mrs.  B.     Tired  of  New  York  ? 

Flos.     Are  you  a  New  Yorker  ?  [Corliss  bows. 

Bar.  New  York  !  New  York  I  It's  the  old  song !  I'm 
pestered  to  death  by  those  women  every  day  to  leave  a 
quiet,  decent,  healthy  country  home  and  crowd  into  a  great 
barracks  they  call  New  York. 

Mrs.  B.  (l.).  An  owJ's  nest.  We  are  mouldering  into 
dust  here. 

Bar.  Don't  let  them  frighten  you,  my  young  friend. 
You'll  do  capitally  here.  Look  at  me.  I've  sat  in  the  owl's 
nest  twenty  years.  Am  I  mouldering  into  dust  ?  I've  had 
my  day  in  the  city,  and  now  I've  settled  down  to  rest. 

Flos.     But  papa  —  we  haven't  had  our  day  in  the  city. 

Mrs.  B.     Time  enough  to  rest  when  you  have  achieved  , 
something. 

JJar.     You  must  know,  Mr.  Corliss,  that  my  Wife  has  a 


• 


ENTER  Jessie,  r.  c,  holding  a  magazine  aloft  in  her  hand- 
Jessie.     Here  it  is  at  last  1 


4   :'. 

\    : 


24  Seven -Twenty -Bght  J  j 

/I 

hobby.  She  wants  me  to  be  somebody.  As  if  it  wasn't 
enough,  at  the  close  of  one's  life,  to  say,  "  I've  been  a  de- 
cent fellow.  I've  never  wronged  any  one.  And  never 
made  a  fool  of  myself." 

Cor.  {calmly).     Very  high  praise  —  if  you  deserve  it. 

Bar.  {hesitating).  Well  —  so  far,  I've  never  done  any- 
thing/«/-//V«/<:?r/>'  foolish. 

Cor.     So  much  the  worse. 

Bar.     Why  so  much  the  worse  ? 

Cor.     Because  you've  got  it  to  do. 

\READ  Y  Jessie,  with  a  magazine^  to  enter  r.  c. 

Bar.     Allow  me  — 

Cor.  Pardon  me.  I  mean  no  reflection.  I  simply  state 
a  fact.  Every  one  commits,  at  some  period  of  his  life,  a 
signal  act  of  folly  —  takes  a  step  and  stumbles  —  makes  an 
effort  that  recoils  upon  his  head  —  throws,  in  fact,  a  boom- 
erang that  returns  to  floor  him.  It's  destiny.  No  one 
escapes. 

Mrs.  B.     There  must  be  exceptions. 

Cor.  {crosses  to  h.\ politely).  I  fear  not, madame.  To  speak 
figuratively,  folly  sits  enthroned  above  us  in  the  clouds,  smil- 
ing at  our  efforts  to  be  wise,  and  confident  that  the  time  must 
come  when  we  forget  our  sense,  our  wit,  our  wisdom  and  ex- 
perience, and  cast  our  little  boomerang. 

Mrs.  B.  (r.).  And  may  we  inquire  whether  you  yourself 
have  — 

Cor.  {smiles).  I  ?  Oh,  I  propitiate  the  goddess  by  half  a 
dozen  small  follies  every  day. 

Bar.     Well,  my  young  friend,  I  believe  as  little  in  your 
theory  as  in  your  goddess.     I  have  survived  the  years  of        ^i 
folly,  and  would  particularly  like  to  see  the  temptation  that 
would  induce  me  to  commit  one.  I 


.1; 


■X\ 


■■V 

Oi>  Gtstins;  the  Boomerans^   ~  W 

Bar.  (at arch).    What,  what? 

Jes.    The  "  Scattered  Leaflets." 

Mrs.  B.  {runs  before  him,  snatches  if  from  Jessie,  and  tears 
the  wrapper  off).  At  last  we  shall  know.  Remember  my 
words,  Launcelot.  \EXIT  Jessie,  r.  c 

Bar.  (l.  of  Mrs.  Bargiss,  excited).  Never  mind !  Get  it 
open  1     It's  really  too  silly,  but  I  am  curious  to  know. 

Mrs.  B.  {has  opened  the  pamphlet;  screams).    Launcelot  I 

Bar.     Well !  ,  Well  1 

Mrs.  B.    You  are  in  it !     {Falls  on  his  neck.) 


Mrs.  H.  }  Mamma! 

Flos.       j  W^^^'')-    What />  the  matter? 


Mrs.  B.  My  children,  see  I  Your  father's  in  print 
(.Crosses  between  the  two  girls  and  back.) 

Mrs.  H.  and  Flos.    Where  ?    How  ? 

Mrs.  B.  (reads proudly).  "The  Pansy  Chain,  by  Launce- 
lot Bargiss."     (Crosses  to  r.) 

Bar.  (looks  over  book,  reads  line  and  repeats,  swelling  with 
pride  and  pleasure).  By  Launcelot  Bargiss !  By  Launcelot 
Bargiss !  Allow  me  to  look  at  it.  I  should  think  it  inter- 
ested the  author  quite  as  much  as  anybody.  Where  the  deuce 
are  my  spectacles  ?  Have  any  of  you  girls  —  (Stage,  r.  c, 
takes  it  pompously.  Flossy  gets  his  glasses  from  the  table.  He 
puts  them  on  and  looks  over  the  magazine.)  It's  really  there. 
Ha,  ha,  ha!  (Quiet  laugh  of  pleasure^  "The  Pansy  Chain, 
by  Launcelot  Bargiss."  By  Launcelot  Bargiss — that's  your 
dad.  ![-KjSAI?  V  ]essik,  to  enter  R.  c. 

Flos,  (crosses,  embraces  her  father  and  mother  hastily  but 
fervently,  turns  7vith  open  arms  to  Corliss  —  checks  herself 
suddenly).  Oh,  papa  is  in  the  papers  at  last  1  (Crosses  to 
Corliss.) 

Mrs.  B.     He  may  thank  me  for  it. 

Bar.  The  types  actually  dance  up  and  down  before  my 
eyes.  It's  really  ridiculous ;  but  to  see  one's  self  in  print  for 
the  first  time  —  - 


26  Seven -Twenty -Eight  J 

Cor.  {politely^  crosses  to  l.  c).  So  your  husband  is  an 
author  ? 

Mrs.  B.  {suddenly  reserved^  and  nudging  Bargiss).  Ye  —  es. 
He  sent  a  trifle  for  this  number.  The  editors  are  so  per- 
sistent. 

Cor.     I  understood  it  was  his  first  — 

Mrs.  B.  Oh,  no  —  he's  been  writing  for  years.  {Crosses 
to  L.  c.) 

Bar.  {tapping  his  forehead).  And  the  well's  not  quite  dry 
yet. 

Flos.     Do  let  us  see,  papa.     {Crosses  to  c.) 

Cor.     And  may  I  have  the  pleasure  — 

Bar.  {airily).  Oh,  if  it  interests  you,  I  should  be  glad  to 
give  you  a  copy.  {Tb  Mrs.  Bargiss.)  Have  we  —  a —  any 
more  ?  [^jS^Z?  F  Tamborini,  to  enter  r.  c. 

Mrs.  B.   {touching  bell).     Possibly  —  I  —  don't  know. 

ENTER  Jessie,  r.  c. 

Ask  at  the  store  if  they  have  any  more  "  Scattered  Leaflets.'* 

[Dora  crosses  to  Corliss  and  Flossy. 

Bar.  If  not,  tell  them  to  send  for  half  a  dozen  —  or  say 
.   a  dozen  ^- or  two  dozen  of  the — a  —  magazine,  regularly. 

Jessie  {going).     Yes,  sir. 

Bar.  Ah  —  and — a  —  tell  the  man  to  send  for  fifty  of 
this  number.  No.  lo.  Tell  him  to  be  sure  it's  the  number 
with  the  poems  by  Mr.  Bargiss  —  Launcelot  Bargiss  —  that's 
me. 

Jes.  {open  mouth).     Yes,  sir.     {EXIT,  r.  c.) 

Flos,  {who  has  been  reading).  Why,  they  are  splendid, 
papa  !  Particularly  the  third  one.  {Crosses  next  to  Bargiss, 
and  gives  him  book.) 

Bar.  {holds  her  hand  to  his  shoulder,  caressing  her).  Do 
you  think  so  ?  My  dear,  I  always  said  our  Flos  knew  a  good 
thing  —  when  she  saw  it. 

Mrs.  B.     The  seventh  is  my  favorite.     It'§  beautiful, 


■   Or,  Castrngf  the  Boomerang*  27 

Bar.  (throws  his  arm  round  Flossy's  necJi).  H3rpatia  I 
{Takes  her  hand.) 

Mrs.  B.     I'll  read  it.     Give  me  the  book. 
Bar.     Not  in  presence  of  the  author ! 

RE-ENTER  Tamborini,  in  archway,  r.  c. 

TAMBdRiNi.     Pardon ! 

All  (backs  to  audience).     Hush ! 

Tam.     I  wanted  to  ask  — 

Bar.     Sh  !     My  wife  is  going  to  read  —  a  —  something. 

Mrs.  B.     Yes.     A  poem  of  my  husband's. 

Bar.     Printed  in  the  Magazine  I     Comprenny  ? 

Mrs.  B.  (clearifig  her  throat,  etc.).  It  is  called  "  Flowers 
Culled  by  the  Wayside." 

Tam.  (r.).  Ahl  Capisco  !  Flowers  —  culled  —  picked 
—  pulled  —  (gesture)  by  Signor  1  (Points  to  Bargiss.)  Good ! 
Bravo ! 

Mrs.  B.  (to  Flossy  and  Dora,  who  are  chatting  with  Cor- 
liss).    Silence,  if  you  please. 

ENTER  Jessie,  r.  c. 

Jessie  (eritering  and  blurting  out).    If  you  please,  sir  — 

[Bargiss  runs  her  out,  r.  c,  she  struggling. 
Sir,  if  you  please,  sir  — 
Bar.     Now,  my  dear  — 
All  (as  above).     Hush  I 

[Bargiss  stands  with  his  eyeglasses  in  his  hand,  beat 
ing  time  and  looking  smilingly  at  dome,     Tam- 
borini accompanies  the  lities  with  gestures.     Thi 
girls  and  Corliss  group  down  l.     Mrs.  Bargis(/  ~ 
stands  r.  c.  and  reads.     All  mark  time. 
Mrs.  B.  (reads). 


(( 


Once — as  evening  shadows  fell, 
I  sought  my  true  love's  door; 
Then  and  there  my  vow  was  spoken 
To  love  her  evermore." 


38  Seven -Twenty -Eigflit  J  i 

Cor.  (sotto  voce).     Bravo !     Bravo  I 
All.     Hush! 

Bar.  (loftily).     Another  stanza ! 
Mrs.  B.  {reads). 

"Ah,  what  was  the  song  she  sang  to  me, 
My  sweet  love  at  her  door, 
While  eyes  and  hearts  were  meeting, 
To  love  me  evermore?"     (^Dries  her  eyes. ^ 

* 

Flos.     Sweet!  \_R  E AD  Y  curtain. 

Cor.     Capital ! 

Mrs.  H.     Beautiful. 

Tam.  Bravo  1  Bravo  !  (Seizes  flowers  from  vase  on  table 
and  crowns  Bargiss.) 

Bar.  {seizes  the  magazine  from  his  wife^s  hand  and  gazes  at 
it  rapturously  as  his  wife  embraces  him).  Yes  —  I  am — -I 
am  a  poet ! 

\^RING  curtain.     The  group  breaks  as  the 

CURTAIN   FALLS. 


..A^'-r.iJ.k 


•5^ 


f,r>-^ 'j^'    "•      v^wi^'   '  ■^-■^^*^^:^-rs^-'->^^ 


Ot,  Gating  the  Boomerangs.  -^ 


ACT  II. 

SCENE.  —  Same  as  last  Mrs.  Bargiss  is  discovered  r., 
placing  books ^  which  she  takes  from  a  basket ^  into  bookcase. 
ENTER  Jessie,  r.  c,  with  a  bust  of  Dante  on  her  arm, 
READ  Y  Mrs.  Hollyhock,  with  letter^  to  enter  r.  c. 

Jessie  (r.  c).  Please'm,  I've  washed  all  the  dirt  off 
this  old  lady.    Where  shall  I  put  her  ? 

Mrs.  Bargiss  (r.).  Old  lady!  What  an  idea!  That's 
Dante  —  a  celebrated  poet. 

Jes.  Lor'm,  I  thought  it  was  an  old  woman,  on  account 
of  the  hood  and  nightgown. 

{READ  Y  Corliss  and  Flossy,  to  enter  r.  i  d. 

Mrs.  B.  Put  him  on  the  table.  Here.  (Assists  Jessie 
by  removing  lamp  from  table  and  placing  it  on  mantel^  It 
will  give  a  literary  air  to  the  room.  Take  that  basket  away, 
now.  {EXIT  Jessie,  with  basket,  r.  c 

ENTER  Mrs.  Hollyhock,  r.  c,  with  a  letter. 

Mrs.  Hollyhock.    This  is  really  too  badi 

Mrs.  B.    What  is  ? 

Mrs.  H.  Paul  won't  be  home  to  dinner.  He's  going 
away  directly  after  luncheon,  to  the  mill. 

Mrs.  B.  (at  bookcase).     Hum  ! 

Mrs.  H.  (l.).  That's  the  way  it  is  all  the  time.  I  don't 
see  my  own  husband  any  more.  Up  at  five  o'clock  and  off 
to  the  fields.  Stays  all  day,  and  falls  asleep  over  his  supper. 
I'd  like  to  know  what  I  married  for.     (Sits  r.  of  table.) 

Mrs.  B.  You  should  have  listened  to  me.  I  warned  you 
about  marrying  a  man  who  hadn't  a  single  literary  taste. 


" '   >     ■ .  ■'■. 

30  Seven -Twenty -Bght;  4 


Mrs.  H.  {seeing  her  error — rises).  Never  mind.  Don't 
say  anything  against  him,  mamma.  I  was  wrong  to  com- 
plain. He  loves  me.  I'll  make  it  all  right  with  him  when 
he  comes  in.     (EXIT  r.  3  d.) 

Mrs.  B.     Ah  1     It's  all  she  can  do,  poor  thing. 

\Goes  to  door  l.,  and  peeps  in  as 

Corliss  and  Flossy  ENTER  at  r.  i  d. 

Flossy  (advances  to  Mrs.  Bargiss).  There's  mamma 
now.     Mr.  Corliss  is  going  away,  mamma. 

Corliss  (r.).  I  have  to  thank  you  and  your  husband, 
madam,  for  the  very  "great  hospitality  you  have  shown  a 
stranger. 

Mrs.  B.  (crosses  to  c).  Don't  mention  it,  I  beg.  We  had 
better  not  disturb  Mr.  Bargiss  just  now.  He's  composing. 
I'll  tell  him.     {EXIT  l.  d.) 

Flos.  (l.).  Ever  since  papa  saw  his  poems  in  the  paper, 
he's  been  another  man.     He  keeps  writing  day  and  night. 

Cor.  It's  the  old  story,  Miss  Florence.  Printer's  ink  is 
a  fluid  possessing  a  fiendish  charm.  Who  sees  himself  in 
print  once  is  a  slave  of  the  dev  —  the  printer's  devil  — 
forever. 

Flos,  {crosses  to  r.).  Things  will  be  duller  than  ever, 
I'm  afraid.  And  now  that  you've  found  what  you  came  to 
look  for,  you  are  going,  too. 

Cor.     With  a  heavy  heart. 

Flos,  {innocently).     Then  it  isn't  what  you  expected  ? 

Cor.     What  ? 

Flos.     What  you  were  searching  for. 

Cor.  No.  It's  extremely  deceptive.  At  first  it  appeared 
to  be  really  charming ;  but  on  examining  it  carefully  and 
critically,  I  found  it  full  of  hidden  defects. 

Flos.     Then  you  won't  buy  it  ? 

Cor.     That's  the  nonsensical  part  of  it.     I'm  afraid  1 


). 


3^**.i-ii.:-'>'L-'"-"  ■..-..„  ..-,  i.'ii'^'U'dvLi'i'. 


I  >  Otf  Casting;  the  BcxMnerang*  W 

}  •  .  : 

{  shall  take  the  thing  after  all  —  for,  candidly,  I'm  quite  in 
I       love  with  it. 

Flos.     In  spite  of  the  defects  ?    You'll  regret  it  hereafter. 

Cor.  (crosses  to  l.).  That's  what  I'm  afraid  of,  too.  For 
that  reason  I  applied  for  advice  to  my  mother,  —  who  is 
most  interested,  next  to  myself,  —  and  she  rather  seems  to 
encourage  me.  {Produces  letter  from  pocket?)  Here's  her 
letter.  But  even  if  she  didn't,  I'm  so  infatuated  I  should  go 
on.  {Puts  up  letter^  There's  no  reasoning  with  a  man  in 
love.  [Flossy  crosses  to  L.,  and  laughs. 

Don't  laugh  at  me. 

Flos.  (l.).  Well,  I  won't.  But  you  actually  talk  about 
this  bric-a-brac  as  if  it  were  a  woman  you  were  in  love  with. 
Why  do  you  look  at  me  so  strangely  ? 

Cor.  (r.).  Did  I?  {Aside.)  Is  this  innocence,  or  is  she 
playing  with  me  ? 

Flos.  I  didn't  mean  to  offend.  A  cat  piay  look  at  a 
king  —  that's  the  old  saying. 

Cor.  Yes  —  and  we  have  no  recorded  saying  as  to  who 
may  look  at  the  queen. 

Flos,  {crossing  to  r.,  archly).  Why,  all  the  animal  king- 
dom.    That  includes  man. 

Cor.  Pardon  me  if  I  offended  by  my  stare — but  I 
thought  I  saw  a  resemblance  — 

Flos.     A  resemblance  to  what  ? 

Cor.     To  a  portrait  I  saw  at  the  Academy  this  year. 

Flos.  (r.).     Indeed !     How  interesting !  .     ■ 

Cor.  {aside).  Not  a  muscle  changes.  What  a  little  dis- 
sembler she  is ! 

Flos.     It's  a  mere  coincidence,  of  course. 

CoR.  {aside).  She  fibs  like  a  newspaper  —  and  looks  as 
innocent  as  a  Christmas  doll. 

Flos.     I'd  like  to  see  the  picture. 

Cor.  You'd  be  disappointed,  for  the  young  lady  has  the 
most  unbecoming  head  of  hair  I  ever  saw. 


^f" 


-.^fls;!s?"'s'    ,. 


■-•'■wf-^-;;^^-^;'?: 


^  Tr*?»^»TC*^  „ 


f-  'r:'^:Xc'f;^^!f^.'] 


32 


Seven  -Twenty  -  Eight ; 


'ic 


Flos.  Of  course !  The  idea  of  black  curls  with  such 
eyes  and  that  complexion.     (Con/use^/.)     Ahem ! 

Cor.  How  did  you  know  the  lady  in  the  picture  had 
black  curls  ? 

Flos,  (aside).    That  was  a  mistake.    (Moves  away.) 

Cor.  (l.).  Don't  be  angry  with  me  for  having  been  so 
rude  as  to  trap  you. 

Flos,  {turns  in  pretended  innocence).  Trap  me?  Why, 
what  do  you  mean  ?    You  haven't  trapped  me. 

Cor.     No  ?     (Incredulously^ 

Flos.     No.     (Crosses  to  l.) 

Cor.  (with  a  smile).     Oh  1 

Flos.  I  heard  all  about  the  picture  from  Signor  Tam- 
borini. 

Cor.  (amazed).     O  —  o — h! 

Flos,  (sweetly).  Y  —  e  —  e  —  si  (Goes  up^  leaving  Cor- 
liss c,  nonplussed ;  then  she  returns^  and  in  the  same  gracious 
tone.)  Didn't  you  know  we  had  a  call  from  Signor  Tam- 
borini .?  He  has  been  commissioned  by  Lord  Lawntennis  to 
discover  the  original  of  that  very  portrait. 

Cor.  (long  drawl).     O  —  o — h! 
.  Flos.     Y  —  e  —  s.     (Turning  a  little  away^ 

\READY]¥SSiE,  to  enter  r.  c. 

Cor.  (aside).  The  little  fox  1  She  got  out  of  it  wonder- 
fully. 

Flos.  (Assumes  an  injured  and  indignant  air,  and  is  sailing 
out  R.).     Good-morning  1 

Cor.  (l.)-     Miss  Florence — one  moment. 

Flos.  You  have  wronged  me,  Mr.  Corliss,  with  the  most 
unjust  suspicions. 

[i?^^Z>  F  Bargiss,  with  four  pens,  and  Mrs.  Bar- 
Giss,  to  enter  l.  D. 

Cor.  Let  me  assure  you,  on  my  honor,  I  never  enter- 
tained, concerning  your  truth  and  candor,  one  unjust  sus- 
picion. 


^'■(r--^»^^"'ur'.'.-. 


..^  '^j^a 


';»&'1)>5 


sfc'  :l   -JSr,  i 


Or>  Casting  the  Boomerang.  33 

Flos,  (sharply ^-r.).    What's  that?    Say  it  again. 

Cor.     No.     Let  me  say  I  am  full  of  contrition. 

Flos.  That's  better,  and  I  forgive  you  —  and  —  and  — 
good-morning.     {EXIT^  r.  id.)  " 

CoR.  (solus).     And  I  am  in  love  with  such  an  utterly  un- 
reliable, imperfect,  deceiving  piece  of  womankind,  or  girl- 
kind,  as  that !    The  idea  of  a  frank,  honest  fellow  selecting         '^ ; 
a  creature  like  this  for  his  life  companion !    And  yet  I'll  do  -^. 

it.     I  feel  it  coming.     (Taking  out  his  mother's  letter.)     The  ^ 

answer  I  shall  send  to  this  will  be  an  announcement  of  my  'I 

engagement  —  if  she'll  have  me.  [EXITf  r.  c,  as         T] 

Jessie  rushes  in  r.  c.  ^ 

Jessie  (almost  runs  against  him).     The  Professor's  come  I  J 

The  Professor's  come!     (Knocks  at  door,  l.)     The  Profes- 
sor's come,  ma'am ! 

ENTER  Mrs.  Bargiss,  l.  d.  j 

The  wagon!s  just  driving  up,  ma'am.  ^- 

\_READ  Y  Gasleigh,  to  enter  r.  c. 

Mrs.  Bargiss.  Very  well,  Jessie;  run  up  and  see  that 
ever)rthing's  right  in  the  Professor's  room.  s 

Jes.     Yes'm.     (EXIT,  r.  id.)  "J 

ENTER  Bargiss,  l.  d.,  two  pens  behind  his  ears,  one  in  his 
mouth,  and  one  in  his  hand. 

Bargiss.  It  is  too  bad  to  be  disturbed  just  at  this  mo- 
ment.    I  felt  I  was  just  becoming  inspired. 

Mrs.  B.  (r.).     Yes,  dear. 

Bar.  Hypatia,  I  believe  this  time  I'm  going  to  make  a 
hit. 

Mrs.  B.  (r.).     Don't  strain  yourself  too  much,  Launcelot. 

Bar.  I  must  make  up  for  lost  time.  Stop !  (Inspired^ 
There's  an  idea.     (Takes  out  a  notebook  and  writes.)    The 


34  Seven -Twenty -Eight;  '      1 

fountain,  choked  for  years,  bursts  into  play  and  overflows  its  ' 
basin.     (Crosses  to  r.,  and  commences  to  write?)    - 

Mrs.  B.  Oh,  how  proud  and  happy  all  this  makes  me ! 
Sh  !  Here's  the  Professor  —  who  is  destined  to  be  the  Bos- 
well  to  your  Johnson. 

Jessie  shows  in  Gasleigh,  a  shrewd  and  not  over  prosperous- 
looking  _party,  R.  c. 

His  anxiety  to  know  you  proves  it,  and  he's  come  all  the 
way  from  New  York  to  see  you, 

Gasleigh  (c).  Madam,  permit  me  to  express  my  grate- 
fulness at  being  permitted  the  opportunity  of  visiting  genius 
in  its  own  dwelling.     (He  presses  her  outstretched  hand^ 

Mrs.  B.  {effusively,  l.).  Professor,  you  are  welcome  — 
allow  me  — 

Gas.  (sees  Bargiss,  and  takes  an  attitude).  Don't  speak. 
That  is  Launcelot  Bargiss  —  author  of  the  '*  Pansy  Chain." 
(Crosses  to  Bargiss  and  takes  both  his  hands.')  Let  me  take 
you  by  the  hand.  Let  me  salute  the  man  who  has  stepped 
to  his  place  in  the  ranks  of  literature  at  a  single  bound. 

Bar.  (r.).     I'm  glad  to  see  you,  Professor  —  very  glad. 

Gas.  (still  holding  his  hands).  Yes  —  you  are  as  I  pic- 
tured you  to  myself.  Half  poet  —  half  philosopher.  All 
sensibility — generosity  —  capability — and  hospitality.  (Tak- 
ing his  hand.  To  Mrs.  Bargiss.)  Do  you  know  what  I 
said  to  myself  when  I  first  read  your  husband's  poems  ? 

Mrs.  Bj     I  should  like  very  much  to  know.  Professor. 

Gas.  I  said,  these  verses  are  not  written  by  some  mere 
gushing  youth.  There  is  a  man's  heart  throbbing  beneath 
them. 

Mrs.  B.     Isn't  there  !     Pray  be  seated.  [All  sit. 

Bar.  But  you  know  I  was  quite  a  boy  when  I  wrote 
them. 

Gas.     I  saw  that  in  a  moment.    The  effusions  of  youth  — 


..■:.  iJ-Si»l 


I  Ot,  Casting  the  Boomerang.  35 

but  not  mere  youth  —  a  man's  heart  was  throbbing  within 
them  !    Mark  the  distinction. 

Bar.     I  see. 

Mrs.  B.  That's  why  it  vexed  me  so  when  the  other  pub- 
lishers refused  them. 

Gas.  Bless  you !  I  understand  all  that.  You  were  re- 
jected because  you  weren't  in  the  literary  ring.  It  was  that 
kind  of  thing  induced  me  to  start  my  periodical.  The 
"  Scattered  Leaflets  "  have  been  founded  as  a  refuge  for  the 
outcasts  of  the  pen.  In  its  pages  such  talent  as  yours  chal- 
lenges the  public  notice.  We  shall  not  longer  allow  Tenny- 
son, Whittier,  and  Longfellow  to  monopolize  celebrity. 

Bar.  Do  you  know,  Professor,  that,  after  the  first  gasp 
of  pleasure  at  seeing  my  lines  in  print,  I  began  to  think 
as  though  — 

Gas.  I  know  —  I  know  —  you  felt  the  power  to  soar 
higher,  and  disdained  the  flight  already  taken. 

Bar.  I  didn't  feel  exactly  like  that.  No  —  I  thought  the 
whole  lot  trash. 

Gas.  (c.  ;  all  rise).  I  comprehend.  I  know  the  feeling. 
Self-doubt  is  the  true  test  of  genius. 

Bar.  (r.).  Is  it  ?  So  you  think  there  is  somethi»g  in 
'em,  eh  ?  Well,  I  sha'n't  confine  myself  to  poetry ;  it's  too 
exhausting.     {Getting  c.^  crosses.) 

Gas.     No,  no. 

Bar.  Yes.  The  rhymes  don't  come  as  they  used  to,  and 
the  measure  has  a  sort  of  rheumatic  limp. 

Gas.  (aside).     Hum  1 

Bar.  I've  been  thinking  of  the  drama.  The  stage  needs 
elevating. 

Mrs.  B.     It  does,  indeed. 

Bar.  I  mean  to  check,  as  far  as  lies  in  my  power,  the 
degenerating  influences  now  at  work.  , 

Mrs.  B.    That  will  be  splendid,  Launcelot. 

Bar.  I've  nearly  finished  a  five-act  tragedy.  Which  of 
the  theatres  would  you  advise  me  to  send  it  to  ? 


Seven -Twenty  -  Etght ; 

Gas.  Which  of  'era  ?  None  of  'em.  A  few  authors  mo- 
nopolize the  managers  and  keep  all  the  new  talent  in  the 
background. 

Mrs.  B.     That's  true. 

Gas.  Do  you  know  how  the  managerial  ring  works  the 
little  game  of  stifling  competition .?  {Crosses /o  c.)  They've 
got  it  down  to  a  fine  point.  To  have  a  play  produced,  you 
must  have  a  name.  To  have  a  name,  you  must  have  your 
play  produced.     Ha,  ha,  ha  1     Do  you  see  ? 

Mrs.  B.  (l.).     It's  monstrous  1 

Gas.  I'll  change  all  that.  The  public  shall  see  your  play. 
Give  it  to  me.     I'll  publish  an  act  a  month. 

Bar.  (rises).     If  you  like  I'll  read  it  to  you  at  once. 

Gas.    There'll  be  time  enough  after  dinner. 

Bar.  (crosses  to  l.).  Oh,  we'll  be  able  to  get  through  a 
couple  of  acts  before  dinner.  I'll  run  and  get  the  manu- 
script from  the  library. 

Gas.  (crosses  to  c).  Very  well.  (Produces  a  huge  wallet  and 
takes  out  a  paper.)  And,  if  you  don't  mind,  you  can  take  the 
contract  with  you  and  sign  at  your  leisure. 

Bar.     The  contract  ?     (Takes  it.) 

Mrs.  B.  (r.).  O  Professor  1  Mr.  Bargiss  would  not  accept 
pay  for  his  writings. 

Gas.  Ha,  ha,  ha  1  A  slight  mistake.  It's  a  contract  in 
which  he  subscribes  for  a  dozen  copies  of  the  magazine.  You 
see,  what  with  the  paper  and  the  type-setting  and  the  print 
ing,  expenses  run  up  —  run  away  up. 

Bar.     But,  as  a  contributor,  I  thought  — 

Gas.  Precisely  —  as  a  contributor,  it's  your  interest  to  con- 
tribute to  the  support  of  the  magazine. 

Bar.     But  it  seems  to  me  that  twelve  at  the  start — 

Mrs.  B.     I  rather  expected  we  should  get  a  free  copy. 

Gas.     So  you  will  —  the  thirteenth  —  that's  our  rule. 

Mrs.  B.  (r.).     Oh,  in  that  case  it's  quite  satisfactory. 

Bar.     Yes,  in  that  case  I'll  sign.     Come  along,  Professor. 


zitLm. 


h'::\  '    '    Oiv  Castmgf  the  Boomerang>  '  3^ 

J  I'll  read  you  those  two  acts.  I've  selected  an  historical  sub- 
I  ject.  My  tragedy  is  founded  on  an  episode  in  the  life  of 
'  Charles  the  Fat. 

Gas.  Ha,  ha,  ha !  {I'uU  his  hand  on  his  stomach^  Fat, 
eh  ?    That  puts  me  in  mind  of  dinner.     Ha,  ha,  ha ! 

[EXIT  Bargiss,  l.,  shutting  the  door  abruptly, 
{Aside.)     He  doesn't  take. 

Mrs.  B.  {confideiitially).  Now  that  we  are  alone  for  a 
moment.  Professor,  I  have  something  important  to  arrange 
with  you.  I  wish  to  give  my  husband  the  surprise  of  his  life. 
When  we  were  engaged  to  be  married,  he  sent  me  every  day 
a  bouquet  and  two  verses  of  poetry.  We  were  engaged  eight 
.  months. 

Gas.  Eight  months  ?  That  makes  two  hundred  and  forty 
days.  Two  hundred  and  forty  bouquets.  Four  hundred  and 
eighty  verses  of  poetry ! 

Mrs.  B.  The  flowers  have  long  been  withered,  but  the 
verses  are  carefully  preserved  in  my  desk.  What  I  want  is 
to  have  them  published,  with  the  utmost  secrecy,  in  a  vol- 
ume. 

Gas.     I  see. 

Mrs.  B.     Now,  can  you  find  me  a  publisher? 

Gas.     What  do  you  want  with  a  publisher  ?     What  makes 
the  publishers  rich  ?    The  profits  they  wring  from  the  brain- 
.    toil  of  authors. 

\READ  Y  Hollyhock,  with  hat,  to  enter  r.  c. 

Mrs.  B.    What  shall  I  do,  then  ? 

Gas.  (l.).  Publish  them  yourself.  Strike  the  first  blow  at 
a  gigantic  monopoly —  the  publishers'  ring.  Your  title-page 
will  simply  say  :  "  Published  by  the  author  —  written  by  the 
publisher."         \READ  Y  Mrs.  Hollyhock,  to  enter  r.  3  d. 

Mrs.  B.     Can  you  attend  to  it  for  me  ? 

Gas.  {grasps  hands).     With  pleasure. 

Mrs.  B.  I  should  like  the  binding  to  be  extremely  ele- 
gant . 


38  Seven -Twenty -Eight  J  if 

Gas.     I'll  have  a  special  design. 

Mrs.  B.  I'm  so  much  obliged.  But,  mind,  not  a  word  to 
Mr.  Bargiss. 

Gas.     Not  a  word.     It's  our  secret 

Mrs.  B.  It's  the  dream  of  my  life.  Launcelot's  works 
elegantly  bound,  and  lying  on  every  parlor  table  in  the  landl 
I'll  bring  you  the  manuscript.     (£X/T,  r.  i  d.) 

Gas.  (solus).  Now,  these  are  the  kind  of  people  I  like. 
But  you  have  to  look  for  'em  in  the  country.  City  people 
know  too  much  !  (Looks  arou?id.)  I  wonder  when  they  have 
lunch.  They  don't  seem  to  eat  much.  That's  one  drawback 
to  literary  people.  But  I've  travelled  four  hours,  and  I'm  as 
hungry  as  a  bear.     (EXIT  after  Bargiss,  l.  d.) 

ENTER  Hollyhock,  r.  c.  ;  same  costume  as  Act  I.    Throws 
down  his  hat  and  then  goes  back  and  speaks  off. 

Hollyhock.  Tell  him  to  wait.  I'm  busy  just  now. 
Wait  a  while. 

ENTER  Mrs.  Hollyhock,  r.  3  d. 

Mrs.  H.     Why,  Paul,  I  thought  you  had  to  go  to  the  mill. 

Hol.  (l.).  Not  before  lunch.  Hullo  1  What's  the  matter 
again  ?     Now,  you've  been  crying.    (  Walks  up  afid  down?) 

Mrs.  H.  I  know  I  have.  (Crosses  to  l.)  I've  been  want- 
ing to  say  something  to  you  for  a  long  time.  Come  here, 
Paul. 

Hol.  Oh,  I  can't  now,  Dora!  I'm  out  of  sorts,  too.  I 
want  to  know  something  myself,  and  my  mind's  full  of  it. 
Father  could  set  me  right,  but  since  he's  got  this  new  fit  on 
him,  he  neglects  everything  else.     (Still  striding.) 

Mrs.  H.  (seated  i..).  Oh,  confide  in  me,  Paul !  Ask  your 
wife.  She  is  your  true  comforter.  I  have  noticed  that  you 
act  strangely  of  late  —  that  you  are  preoccupied  and  some- 
times even  —  indifferent. 


I  Or^  Castingf  the  Boomerangf.  39 

i     HoL.     My  dear  girl,  there's  a  reason  for  it.    It  has  begun 

to  dawn  on  me  that  we  must  have  a  change. 

'     Mrs.  H.  (rises  hopefully).     You  see  that  yourself  ? 

HoL.  Yes;  I've  thought  it  all  over,  and  I  believe  I've 
hit  on  the  right  thing. 

Mrs.  H.  (l.).     Really  and  truly  1 

HoL.  Really  and  truly.  What  do  you  think  —  (  Walk- 
ing away.)  But  why  should  I  bother  you  with  my  worries  ? 
{Crosses  to  c.) 

Mrs.  H.  {following  him,  and  putting  her  arms  lovingly 
about  his  neck).     Ah,  confide  in  me,  Paul. 

HoL.  (l.).  Well,  what  do  you  think  of  the  German  sys- 
tem of  feeding  cows  ?  They  say  the  results  are  better  for 
half  the  labor  and  quarter  the  money. 

Mrs.  H.     Feeding  cows ! 

HoL.  They  don't  vary  clover  with  corn  and  oats  —  their 
principle  —  [Mrs.  Hollyhock  goes  away  angrily. 

Where  are  you  going  —  what  ails  you .? 

Mrs.  H.  (gets  r.  of  table;  bitterly).  I  expected  something 
far  different.  \^READ  V  Corliss,  to  enter  r.  c. 

HoL.  Well,  if  you  think  the  German  system  won't  do, 
say  so  openly. 

Mrs.  H.     Is  this  all  you  have  to  say  to  me  ? 

HoL.     Why,  yes.     Whole  thing  lies  in  a  nutshell.     It's 
grazing  or  stall-feeding  —  or  varying  the  two.     I  don't  see 
anything  to  object  to  in  it. 
•    Mrs.  H.  {sitting,  in  tears).     You  see~4iothing  ?     O  Paul ! 

HoL.  {going  to  her  caressingly).  There  is  something 
wrong. 

Mrs.  H.  {rises,  hand  on  his  shoulder).  Can't  you  guess 
what  is  troubling  me  ? 

HoL.  {supporting  her  head  on  his  shoulder).  Don't  be 
afraid.  Let  me  know  everything.  Is  it  —  did  you  forget 
to  moisten  the  pea-seed  with  the  oil  of  turpentine  ? 

Mrs.  H.  {breaks  away  indignantly).     This  is  too  much  I 


. -'r/ri.-'j:«S'7".;  »--^ja.  ■    ..         '  ^,-\t  -'■';;*-.  ■'"■'?>■  H^ 

'-:.'■■     '   'A 

40  Seven -Twenty -Eigfht  J  ' 

HoL.  {following).     Dora!  f 

Mrs.  H.  Let  me  alone!  Oh!  {Bursts  into  tears^  and 
EX/Tr.  3D.)  - 

ENTER  Corliss,  r.  c. 

HoL.     Dora ! 

Corliss  (r.).  Pardon !  I  fear  I  have  interrupted  a  do- 
mestic incident.     {Going.) 

HoL.  (r.).  No,  no.  Stay.  I  can't  tell  you  what  came 
over  my  wife  so  suddenly.  I  tell  you,  Corliss,  there  isn't 
a  husband  in  the  land  more  uniformly  considerate  than  I 
am,  and  yet  latterly  she  seems  to  be  always  disturbed  about 
something. 

Cor.  (l.).    You  have  unconsciously  said  something  harsh. 

HoL.  No,  I  didn't.  I  didn't  even  blame  her.  I  men- 
tioned the  pea-seed  and  the  oil  of  turpentine  in  the  gentlest 
manner. 

Cor.  {laughs).  My  dear  friend,  you  are  cultivating  every- 
thing on  this  place  to  perfection  —  except  your  wife's  happi- 
ness. Regaling  a  young  wife  upon  turpentine  and  pea-seed ! 
Why,  man,  it's  love  —  love  —  love  —  and  nothing  but  love 
she  wants  you  to  talk  about. 

HoL.     So  I  do  occasionally  —  only  last  Wednesday  — 

Cor.     Last  Wednesday !     Every  day  and  every  hour. 

HoL.  Now,  that  I  can't  do.  There's  really  so  much  to 
look  after  about  the  place.     But  when  the  potatoes  are  in  — 

Cor.  There  you  go.  Potatoes  before  your  wife.  It's  so 
the  world  over.  Molasses  —  sugar  —  corn  —  wheat  —  pig 
iron  —  books  —  stocks  —  bonds  —  everything  before  the 
wife]     {Crosses  to  l.) 

HoL.     But  business  before  everything. 

Cor.  It  is  business  to  make  your  wife  happy.  The  man 
who  doesn't  is  a  poor  man  of  business,  I  don't  care  if  he 
makes  millions. 

HoL.  (r.).  Well,  for  a  bachelor,  you  seem  to  have  very 
profound  views  on  the  subject.     What  do  you  advise  ? 


Ot,  Castingf  the  Boomerang:*  41 

Cor.  I'm  looking  for  advice  myself  {takes  out  his  mother's 
letter)  on  the  same  subject.  Here  is  some  of  the  very  best 
from  my  mother,  and  yet  I  can't  make  up  my  mind.  {Puts 
letter  up.) 

HoL.  By  the  way  —  seeing  your  letter  reminds  me  —  I 
may  have  hurt  my  wife's  feelings  by  some  very  stupid 
conduct.  You  see,  I  noticed  that  she  had  some  secret  trou- 
ble ;  and  a  few  days  ago  I  thought  I  was  on  the  track  of  it. 
She  got  a  letter  from  New  York  which  she  refused  to 
show  me. 

CoR.     Oh! 

HoL.  I  afterwards  found  the  envelope  on  the  table  there. 
Here  it  is.     {Crosses  to  l.  and  hands  envelope.) 

Cor.    Well .?     {Takes  it.) 

HoL.  Well,  I  questioned  her  so  persistently  about  it 
that  she  finally  hunted  up  the  enclosure  and  gave  it  to 
me  {hands  a  paper),  and  it  was  nothing  but  a  milliner's 
circular. 

CoR.     What?     {Takes  it.) 

HoL.  Now,  you  see,  she  doubtless  felt  hurt  at  my  ques- 
tioning —  1  won't  say  suspicion  in  the  matter,  and  that,  with 
my  neglect,  perhaps  — 

CoR.  Your  diagnosis  of  the  case  is  perfect.  She  is  suf- 
fering from  a  high  degree  of  ennui,  complicated  by  disap- 
pointment and  distrust. 

HoL.     And  the  remedy  ? 

CoR.     A  winter  in  New  York. 

HoL.  (l.).  a  winter  in  New  York !  I  say,  couldn't  I  give 
it  to  her  in  homoeopathic  doses  —  say  a  week  now  and  then  ? 

Cor.    My  dear  fellow,  nobody  takes  pleasure  homceopathi-1 
cally.     She  needs  a  change  of  air  and  scene,  friends,  visits, ' 
parties,  theatres,  balls,  —  everything  she  doesn't  and  can't 
get  here.     {Crosses  to  l.) 

HoL.    Well,W  — 

Cor.    If  you  begin  to  butt  against  the  remedy  — 


42  Seven -Twenty -Eight  J  '     ! 

HoL.  No,  no.  I'll  have  to  think  over  it,  though.  I  must 
look  out  for  a  furnished  house. 

Cor.  There's  one  just  opposite  my  flat  in  the  city.  A  new 
row  near  Central  Park.  Splendid  view.  Good  air.  No  other 
neighbors.  Quite  a  rus-in-urbe.  You  can  hire  it  furnished 
for  the  season,  and  walk  into  it  to-morrow. 

\_READ  V  Bargiss,  wi^A  MSS.,  and  Gasleigh,  to 
enter  L. 

HoL.  'Gad,  I'd  start  to-night  if  I  made  up  my  mind.  I'm 
not  so  fond  of  dulness  myself  —  only,  if  we  live  in  the  coun- 
try, we  must  plod.  If  we  live  in  town,  we'll  go  it  with  the 
town.     I'm  afraid  she  mightn't  like  it  as  well  as  I  should. 

Cor.  Go  and  ask  her.  If  she  doesn't  fly  at  your  neck 
with  a  cry  of  joy,  and  fly  at  her  trunks  with  a  shout  of  vic- 
tory—    \READ  Y  Mrs.  Bargiss,  with  MSS.,  to  enter  r.  i  d. 

HoL.  (crosses  to  l.,  interrupting  him  resolutely).  I'll  try  it 
instantly.  {Shakes  his  hand.)  Much  obliged  for  the  hint.  I 
say  —  if  you  hear  a  cry  of  joy  —  telegraph  at  once  for  that 
house.     {EXIT,  r.  3  d.) 

Cor.  {fumbling  the  letter  and  envelope  unconsciously).  It's 
wonderful  how  wise  I  am  in  other  people's  affairs,  but  when 
it  comes  to  deciding  for  myself —  {In  trying  to  put  the  circu- 
lar into  the  envelope,  he  turns  it  different  ways,  hut  it  won't  Jit, 
as  the  circular  is  long  and  the  envelope  is  square.)  Hullo !  This 
circular  won't  go  into  the  envelope.  Evidently  because  it 
never  came  out  of  it.  My  friend's  wife  has  ventured  a  little 
deception  on  him.  Possibly  it's  a  quite  harmless  matter  — 
but  nevertheless,  it's  a  trick.  How  fortunate  he  didn't  dis- 
cover it.  I  must  warn  her,  however.  {Puts  the  circular  and 
envelope  in  the  same  pocket  with  his  mother^  s  letter,  and  EXIT, 

R.  C.) 

ENTER  Bargiss,  -l.,  followed  by  Gasleigh.    Bargiss  with 

MSS. 

Bargiss.     So,  Professor,  you  like  the  play,  eh  ?    I'll  mark       , 


..:,:\ 


Of,  Casting  the  Boomerang*  43 

the  place  where  we  left  off.,    Act  2d,  scene  17th  —  and  now 
We'll  have  luncheon. 

Gasleigh  (l.).    Don't  speak  of  it.     Your  play  was  a  feast 
for  the  gods. 

[READ  Y  Tamborini  and  Corliss,  to  enter  r.  c. 

ENTER  Mrs.  Bargiss,  r.  i  d.,  with  bundle  of  MSS.       '         ^ 

Mrs.  Bargiss.     Here  it  is.     {Hides  her  package  as  she  sees 
Bargiss.)     Oh,  my  dear  —  would  you  mind  leaving  the  Pro-     -     " 
fessor  with  me  for  a  little  while  ?     I  want  to  consult  him.  "^ 

Bar.  (c).     Certainly,  my  love.     I'll  go  and  get  a  cracker  y. 

and  a  glass  of  wine  {crosses  to  l.)  till  lunch  is  ready.     {EXIT,  j 

L.)  [Gasleigh  stretches  out  his  hand,  as  if  to  detain  him.         ^  -, 

Gas.     I  don't  care  if  I  do  — 

Mrs.  B.  {detains  him).    Now,  Professor,  here  are  my  treas- 
ures.    I  call  them  "  Sonnets  to  a  Fiancee."     Wouldn't  that  ^ 
make  a  capital  title  for  our  book  ? 

Gas.  {exhibiting  the  cravings  of  hunger).    Capital. 

Mrs.  B.     I'll  read  you  a  few  before  lunch. 

[Gasleigh  groans. 
Come  to  my  sitting-room.     We  won't  be  disturbed  there.  -  ^ 

Gas.     But  there's  time  enough.     I'm  in  no  hurry.     You 
are  perhaps  too  busy  just  now  preparing  for  the  meal. 

Mrs.  B.     Oh,  not  at  all.     We  usually  have  a  very  light 
lunch.  [Gasleigh  groans. .  • 

I'll  begin  now  and  finish  in  the  afternoon.     {Going,  reads  a  "• 

verse.)     Beautiful !     Exquisite ! 

"Take  —  oh  take  those  lips  away  i 

That  so  sweetly  were  forsworn." 

[EXIT,  r.  I  D.  ■  ^ 

Gas.     I  m  dying  with  hunger,  and  they  fill  me  with  wind. 

[EXIT,.  R.  I  D. 

ENTER  Tamborini  and  Corliss,  r.  c. 


44  Seven -Twenty -Bght  J 

Corliss  (l.).  So  you  find  Lord  Lawntennis  is  deeply 
interested  in  No.  728? 

Tamborini  (r.)-  Si,  Signor.  He's  crazy.  {Gesture.) 
Out  of  his  head  until  he  find  the  young  lady  who  is  the 
original. 

Cor.  {uneasy;  aside).  The  deuce  !  An  English  lord  for  a 
rival !     This  is  likely  to  be  very  inconvenient. 

Tam.     I  seek  —  but  I  find  not. 

Cor.  Then  you  have  no  clew  to  the  young  lady  ?  {Aside.) 
Thank  goodness !     {Crosses  to  R.) 

Tam.  I  knocked  {gesture)  at  every  door  in  the  neighbor- 
hood where  they  send  me.  Ma  niente.  One  haf  no  daughter. 
One  haf  seven  {counts  them),  but  they  haf  not  been  to  Nahant. 
Maledetto  del '  Ostia  !  Another  one  haf  a  daughter,  but  she  is 
so  small.  {Gesture  of  baby  in  arms.)  Baby!  Hush-a-by- 
rock-a-baby.  Corpo  di  bacco !  Ma  Jinalemente.  I  found  a 
young  lady. 

CoR.     The  original  ? 

Tam.  Non^  ma  dio  !  There  is  a  difference.  The  one  is 
all  gold  on  top  —  the  other  is  ebony.  But  one,  she  is  hand- 
some. {In  ecstasy.)  Sapette,  what  shall  I  sayl  {Searches 
for  English  in  vain,  and  bursts  into  Italian.)  Una  bella 
ragazza  con  cecchi  I  {Points  to  eyes.)  Cost  grandi/  {Big 
eyes.)     Una  bocchina  cosipiccola  /    {Small  mouth.) 

CoR.     Yes,  I  know.     Piccolo  !     {Attitude  of  flute  player.) 

Tam.  Ed  ovechi  {ears )  f  Ebbere  una  bellazza  come  non 
vide  mai. 

CoR.  {pats  him  on  the  back).  Very  good,  old  fellow  !  My 
sentiments  exactly.     You  describe  her  perfectly. 

Tam.  Ah  !  You  laugh  because  you  think  my  heart  {ges- 
ture) run  away  {gesture)  with  my  stupid  head.     {Gesture^ 

CoR.  It  all  comes  from  your  warm  Italian  blood  —  your 
sunny  nature. 

Tam.  (l.).  Si,  si.  The  hot  blood.  In  the  American 
there  is  no  heart  —  no  pulse  —  but  {drowsily)  tick-a-tack, 


..ii:!.3Sik-i-V 


'■_«<^-v  -fsrrt'^C^'^-    ~    -^      "•        ~*     j»i«R»^-r-^    -     '  ^•!i-_5;.».* 


Or^  Casting  the  Boomerang*  45 

tick-a-tack  (marking  time  with  his  forefinger).     Ma,  in  my 
(Italian  veins,  it  is  tick-a-tack,  tick-a-tack  !     (  Very  fast.) 
'      Cor.     Of  course ;  we  all  know  that.    But  what  has  brought 
you  back  to  this  house  ?  - 

Tam.  {mysteriously).  It  was  —  to  make  sure.  There  is  a 
mystery. 

Cor.  Indeed  !  {Aside^  Then  he  can't  be  got  rid  of  too 
quickly.     {Stage,  crosses  to  l.) 

Tam.  {cunningly).  I  wish  to  study  the  young  lady  here 
once  more. 

Cor.  {forgets  himself).  The  devil  you  do  !  {Crosses  to 
L. ;  turns  back.)  You  sha'n't  do  anything  of  the  kind.  {Re- 
covers.) I  mean,  it  will  be  a  mere  waste  of  time.  The 
matter  is  quite  simple.  You  were  informed  at  Nahant  that 
the  young  lady  and  her  family  came  from  this  vicinity. 

Tam.     That  is  what  they  told  me. 

\READ  Y  Flossy,  to  enter  r.  c. 

Cor.     You  come  here  and  you  don't  find  her. 

Tam.     Si,  si. 

Cor.  That  proves  conclusively  that  you  should  have 
inquired  not  where  she  came  from  —  but  where  she  wejit  to. 

Tam.  {dilates  with  the  idea  of  the  thing).  I  never  thought 
of  that. 

Cor.  That's  because  in  an  Italian  head  the  ideas  go 
tick-a-tack,  tick-a-tack  {imitates  slowly),  while  in  the  Ameri- 
can cranium  they  go  tick-a-tick,  tick-a-tack.     {Very  fast.) 

Tam.     Ha,  ha,  ha  !     Evero  —  E  —  vero  !    That  is  good. 

Cor.  So  you  must  go  at  once  to  Nahant  and  begin 
again. 

Tam.     Of  course  !     Of  course  ! 

Cor.  I  recommend  the  greatest  haste.  A  trail  may 
be  lost  in  a  day.  It's  half-past  twelve.  {Looks  at  watch.) 
There's  a  train  at  12.50. 

Tam.  I  will  just  take  leave  of  the  Signora.  They  have 
been  very  kind 


-A-^'S^'aff*;-'    "~      ■    *■''■••       -.^:^"''Vi■■^^<^w!SF>^!y'^I'.,^»•.%^-^^«s^ 


46  Seven -Twenty -Bglit;  i 

Cor.    You'll  miss  the  express.     Here,  get  your  hat  on 
{opens  it  for  him  and  puts  it  on),  and  go  at  once.     I'll  give,, 
any  message  you  choose  to  leave. 

ENTER  Flossy,  r.  c. 

Flossy.    Why,  Signer,  are  you  back  again  ? 

Cor.  (aside).     Too. late! 

Tam.  Signorina  !  {Profound  bow,  and  aside  to  Corliss.) 
The  likeness  is  wonderful. 

Cor.  {crosses  to  c).  I  beg  you  won't  detain  the  Signor, 
Miss  Florence.     He  has  to  start  for  Nahant  at  once. 

Tam.     But  I  — 

Cor.  {seizes  Tamborini  by  the  lapel  of  the  coat  and  pulls 
him  round  table  towards  c).  The  train  is  12.50.  You  are 
losing  time. 

Flos,  {sweetly).     If  you  are  going  back  to  Nahant  — 

Cor.     Yes  —  by  the  express. 

Flos.  (r.).     Still  seeking  the  original  and  unattainable  ? 

Tam.     Si,  Signorina.     Ah  !     If  you  would  help  me. 

Flos.  (r.).     Is  his  lordship  so  impatient  ? 

Cor.  (l.  ,  crosses  to  her  suddenly).     I  beg  your  pardon. 

Flos.     What  is  it  ? 

Cor.  You  are  losing  the  pin  out  of  your  hair.  I'm 
afraid  it's  all  coming  down.  {Takes  it  out  suddenly  and 
hands  it  to  her^     It  was  just  falling  out. 

Flos,  {claps  one  hand  to  her  back  hair  and  holds  it.  Takes 
the  pin  with  the  other).  Thank  you — excuse  me — only  a 
minute.     (Runs  out  r.) 

Cor.  {sees  her  to  the  door).  All's  fair  in  love.  {Stands 
with  his  back  to  the  door  —  to  Tamborini.)  You  are  saved. 
Fly  to  the  station.  You'll  iust  have  time  to  catch  that 
train. 

Tam.  (l.,  looks  at  his  watch).  Madonna  !  I  must  hurry. 
A  rivederci,  Signor.  {Profound  bow,  and  then  to  himself.)  I 
will  telegraph  to  his  lordship  that  I  am  on  the  scent  at  last. 


r^tSg.  _Ul: 


I 

I  Or^  Casting  the  Boomerangf*  47 

Oh,  I  guess  I  know  whatever  is  what.     {To  Corliss.)     A 
rivederci,  Signer.     A  rivederci.     {EXIT,  r.  c.) 

Cor.  {coming  from  door).  At  last !  It  was  a  tight 
squeeze.     She's  dazzled  by  his  lordship,  that's  clear. 

\READ  Y  Hollyhock  and  Mrs.  Hollyhock,  to 
enter  r.  3  d. 

Flos.  (  re-enters  and  looks  for  Tamborini).     Is  he  gone  ? 

Cor.     Yes.     I  couldn't  keep  him  any  longer. 

Flos.  (r.).  Keep  him  ?  I  rather  thought  you  were  trying 
to  force  him  away. 

Cor.  I  plead  guilty  —  for  I  wished  to  speak  with  you 
alone.  I  have  an  important  communication  to  make  to  you 
—  in  the  strictest  confidence. 

Flos.     Thank  you  —  no  more  secrets.     {Crosses  to  u) 

Cor.     It  is  not  mine  —  it's  your  sister's. 

Flos.     My  sister's  ? 

Cor.  Her  husband  has  been  hunting  for  a  letter  which' 
she  refused  to  show  him.  At  last  she  was  pressed  so 
closely  that  she  pretended  to  produce  it.  It  was  a  circular 
which  does  not  fit  the  envelope.  Your  brother-in-law  did 
not  notice  the  fact,  and  gave  me  the  paper  and  envelope  — 
but  if  he  should  ask  for  them  — 

Hollyhock  {outside,  at  r.  door).  Come  along  and  tell 
him  yourself. 

Cor.  Sh !  He's  coming.  There,  give  them  to  your  sis- 
ter.    {Crosses  to  l.)     My  duty  is  done. 

[Dives  into  his  pocket  and  gives  her,  in  his  haste,  his 
mother 's  letter  with  the  other,  as 
Hollyhock  and  Mrs.  Hollyhock  ENTER,  r.  3  d. 

Hollyhock  (r.).  There,  my  love,  is  the  man  who  put  it 
in  my  head.     Make  your  acknowledgments. 

\READ  Y  JoBBiNS,  to  enter  r.  c. 

Mrs.  Hollyhock  {crosses — gives  hand  to  CoTii.iss).  How 
nice  of  you.  When  you  marry,  your  wife  will  have  a  splen- 
did husband,  I'm  sure.  • 


'CT.  ■'<^i3p?^«|SS!* 


48 


Seven  -Twenty  -  Eight ; 


i-.,;^ 


/ 


Cor.  {crosses  to  Hollyhock).  I  don't  know.  He  may 
turn  out  like  the  rest  of  'em.  Think  more  of  his  potatoes 
than  of  her.  [Hollyhock  and  Corliss  ^^  up  r. 

Mrs.  H.  (l.).  Just  think,  Flos  —  we  are  going  to  New 
York  for  the  winter.  The  house  is  taken,  and  we  start 
to-morrow. 

Flos.  (l.  c).  Sh  I  I  have  something  particular  to  give 
you.     Come  one  side  where  Paul  can't  see  us. 

[^They  go  up  and  Flossy  explains,  holding  the  papers 
in  her  hand  as  she  speaks. 

HoL.  {down  R.).  I'm  really  thankful  to  you.  {Shaking 
hands  with  Corliss.)  You  should  have  seen  how  happy 
she  was.     She  was  speechless. 

Cor.  That's  fortunate  —  I  mean  that's  likely  —  I  mean 
that's  all  right. 

Hol.  I  had  no  idea  a  woman  could  change  so  quickly. 
I  suppose  you  were  waiting  to  hear  that  cry  of  joy. 

Cor.  (r.  c).  Yes,  I  want  to  telegraph  for  the  house. 
Well,  it's  settled.     When  do  you  start  ? 

JoBBiNS  appears,  R.  c. 

Hol.  To-morrow.  They'll  get  on  without  me  here.  I'll 
give  Jobbins,  our  farmer,  his  instructions.     Oh,  there  he  is. 

JoBBiNS.     One  moment,  if  you  please,  Mr.  Paul. 

Hol.  {joining  Jobbins).  Jobbins,  you're  just  the  man  I 
want  to  see.  [Corliss  saunters  up. 

Mrs.  H.  {to  Flossy).     Heavens,  what  a  mistake  ! 

Flos,  {handing  the  papers^.  So  here  they  are.  Now  I've 
done  my  duty.  {Crosses  to  c.  and  exchanges  signs  with  Cor- 
liss.) \CoKLiss  Joins  Hollyhock. 

Mrs.  H.  (l.,  aside).  I  must  tell  Paul  the  whole  truth  at 
once.  After  all,  what  great  harm  was  there  in  Flos  having 
her  picture  painted  ?  {Looks  at  papers  in  her  hand^  and  sees 
Corliss's  letter.)    This  isn't  mine,  Flossy  I 

Flos.     What  ? 


■^A  ^'iL^*l'  ■&-  ™  - 


?^SP^    7      7-"^^-^ .'^Pisrw^-i^'l*''  ./a|^^W«^'(S^»?TS!^,'ifgBK*-^  <^.-»^^  «5»«i^E^ 


::--_      (v«-  .  -t^V". 


f 


I  Or,  dstingf  the  Boomerang*  49 

Mrs.  H.  You  gave  me  one  of  your  letters  in  mistake. 
{Gives  the  letter^  and  goes  up  to  Hollyhock,  r.  c.) 

Flos.  One  of  mine?  {Opens  letter?)  What  is  this  ?  My 
name  !  {Reads  over  rapidly  —  turning  letter  over  to  see  signa- 
ture and  address^ 

HoL.  {at  back,  r.  c,  to  Jobbins,  cheerfully).  Just  fix  itl 
any  way  you  like.  And  mind,  Jobbins,  don't  send  to  ask| 
me  an)rthing  after  I'm  gone.  I  won't  answer,  I  warn  you  % 
{Talks  with  Mrs.  Hollyhock  and  Corliss.) 

Flos,  {aside,  flaring  up).  This  is  too  much!  It's  a  letter 
from  his  mother,  and  about  me.  {Reads  and  sits  on  sofa,  l.) 
"  I  think  you  mix  up  her  graver  faults  with  lighter  ones,  and 
estimate  both  at  the  same  value.  Now,  to  me,  the  fact  that 
she  is  coquettish,  romantic,  hot-headed,  and  fond  of  admira- 
tion, is  more  serious  than  the  fact  that  she  touches  the 
wrong  keys  at  her  piano-lesson  or  spells  vinegar  with  an 
e-r."     {Crumples  the  letter,)     It's  maddening ! 

[READ  Y  Mrs.  Bargiss,  to  enter  r.  i  d.  i 

Job.    Well,  Mr.  Bargiss  won't  take  no  interest  — 

HoL.     Oh,  let  the  whole  thing  go,  then. 

Job.     But,  Mr.  Paul  — 

HoL.  I  tell  you  I  won't  be  bothered  any  more.  I've 
given  up  farming.  {Taking  his  wife  around  the  waist,  and 
down  L.)     I'm  going  to  spoon  a  bit. 

[EXIT  Jobbins,  r.  c.    Hollyhock  and  Mrs.  Hoir 
LYHOCK  up  to  window,  L.  c. 

Flos.  So  /was  the  thing  he  came  here  to  inspect  !  I'm 
the  piece  of  tapestry  —  the  bric-a-brac  with  the  internal 
defects.  The  man's  impudence  passes  all  bounds.  Oh! 
I  could  — 

Cor.  {unconscious,  comes  down  to  her,  r.).  I  hope.  Miss 
Florence,  we  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  in  the 
city  this  winter. 

[READY  Bargiss,   with   sandwich,  napkin,  and 
\  glass  of  wine,  to  enter  l.  d. 


50  Seven -Twenty -Bglit  1  ^ 

Flos,  {looks  at  him ;  then  bitingly).  Excuse  me  {crosses  to 
R.),  Mr.  Corliss.  I  have  something  to  do  in  my  room.  I 
must  practise  at  my  piano  a  couple  of  hours,  and  take  an- 
other lesson  in  spelling  vinegar.  Good-morning  !  {Bounces 
out,  R.  I  D.) 

Cor.  {astonished').  What's  wrong  now?  That's  a  new 
phase  of  her  character — sudden  squalls.    She's  wonderful. 

ENTER  Mrs.  Bargiss,  r.  i  d.,  speaking  off. 

Mrs.  Bargiss.  No.  G-a-r.  Now,  don't  hurry.  Finish 
your  sherry  and  read  the  rest. 

Mrs.  H.  {crosses  to  c,  releasing  herself  from  Hollyhock). 
Here's  mamma. 

Mrs.  B.  Ah,  there  you  are.  I  want  your  assistance. 
Your  father  must  be  persuaded  to  go  to  New  York ;  if  not 
permanently,  at  least  for  a  season. 

Mrs.  H.  {going  to  sofa,  l.).     We  are  with  you,  mamma. 

Mrs.  B.  {to  Corliss,  r.  c).  I  count  on  you,  too,  Mr.  Cor- 
liss.    {To  Mrs.  Hollyhock.)     Where's  your  father  ? 

Mrs.  H.     In  his  room,  I  think. 

Mrs.  B.  {crosses  to  l.  c).  He's  killing  himself.  He's  ty- 
ing himself  down  so  close  to  his  literary  labors  down  here, 
Mr.  Corliss,  that  I'm  sure  he'll  kill  himself.  {Goes  to  door  l., 
and  knocks^  Are  you  busy,  darling  ?  Can  you  leave  oil  for 
a  moment  and  come  out  ? 

Bargiss  {outside  l.  d.).  I  can  come  out,  but  I  can't  leave 
off,  Hypatia. 

ENTER  Bargiss,  eating  a  sandwich  and  drinking  from  a 
glass  of  sherry  —  napkin  under  his  chin. 

What  is  it,  darling  ? 

Mrs.  B.  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you  eat.  {To  others^  He 
never  eats  down  here.  {To  Bargiss.)  Professor  Gasleigh 
has  made  a  most  valuable  suggestion.  If  you  act  on  it,  you 
secure  the  success  of  your  literary  career. 


i«j<i»ir7';5ai^)^SigaS8^^^stj<t?wg^gi^j  ~i*\.*»g=';?*r38**  ^  ,.'--!g}iZ>'^^Bf^^^   -:r^--»^-TS(jc;'-^»»*'.-?'^'=c^T« 


Or^  Castingf  tkc  Boomer angf*  51 

'     Bar.  (eaiin^).     No!    What  is  it?  ,'  '^ 

Mrs.  B.  All  life  and  movement  is  in  the  city  —  in  New 
York.  We  can  accomplish  nothing  in  this  out-of-the-way 
place.    We  must  be  on  the  spot. 

\^J?£AD  Y  GASLEiciH,  with  sandwich^  wine,  and  hand- 
kerchief, to  enter  r.  i  e.  . 

Bar.     Does  the  Professor  advise  that  ? 

Mrs.  B.  Certainly.  If  you  work  for  the  public,  you  must 
live  in  public.  If  you  wish  people  to  know  you,  you  must 
know  people.     Am  I  not  right,  Mr.  Corliss  ? 

Cor.     It's  quite  conclusive. 

HoL.  (l.).  Come  with  us,  father-in-law.  We  start  to-mor- 
row. 

Bar,     You  do  ? 

Mrs.  H.  (crossing  to  Hollyhock).    Yes,  papa. 

Mrs.  B.  You  see  the  children  even  understand  what's 
good  for  them. 

\jREAD  V  Jessie  a«^  Flossy,  to  enter  r.  c.  and^.  i  d. 

HoL.  We  do.  {Attempts  to  clasp  Mrs.  Hollyhock.  She 
eludes  him  under  her  mother's  eye^ 

Bar.  Well,  I'm  willing.  There's  no  need  for  much  pres- 
sure.    In  fact,  I  had  the  same  idea  myself. 

HoL.  and  Mrs.  H.     Bravo,  papa ! 

Mrs.  B.  {hurries  to  door,  r.).  Come  in,  Professor.  We've 
succeeded.     Come  in. 

ENTER  Gasleigh,  r.  i  e.,  with  a  sandwich  and  sherry. 
Handkerchief  tucked  under  his  chin.  He  and  Bargiss 
meet  c.     Both  eat  and  drink  simultaneously  a  la  Dromios. 

Gasleigh.  I  congratulate  you.  This  is  a  great  moment.  .If 
Guttenberg,  when  he  invented  the  art  of  printing,  could  have 
foreseen  a  triumph  like  this,  he  would  —  {His  eye  meets  Cor- 
liss's, who  stands  up  r.  smiling  calmly  at  the  group,  and  he 
stops.)    Ah  —  another  son-in-law  of  yours,  Mr.  Bargiss  ? 

Bar.  {crosses  to  Corliss).    No,  sir  —  this  is  a  young  friend, 


i,:j^-K">ro-;----.'i    :-«ew^«»-!-^- ..,-.:  ;':.!■,■.•  ^    ;-    j^;-;  , 


•'  ■!  ?  ?r*S|- 


52 


Seven  -Twenty  -  Eigfht ; 


a  theorist,  who  says  that  every  man  in  the  world  is  bound  tb 
make  a  great  ass  of  himself  once  in  his  life ;  aims  too  high 
and  boomerangs  himself. 

Gas.  (c).     We  defy  him  and  his  theory. 

ENTER  Jessie,  r.  c. 

Jessie.     Luncheon  is  ready. 

ENTER  Flossy,  r.  i  d. 

IR  E AD  Y  curtain. 
Flossy.     Here  I  am,  papa. 
Bar.  {to  Gasleigh).     Give  your  arm  to  Mrs.  Bargiss. 

[Gasleigh  crosses  to  Mrs.  Bargiss. 
Mr.  Corliss,  give  your  arm  to  Flos. 

[Corliss  crosses  to  Flossy. 
Flos,  {crosses  to 'Bxrgiss, passing  Co^'liss).    No,  papa;  I'll 
take  you.     {Takes  Bargiss's  arm  as  he  faces  up.) 

Bar.    Ha,  ha,  ha  1    Sorry  for  you,  Corliss.    This  comes  of 
boomerangs.     {As  all  go  off.) 

Cor.    We  shall  see.    {Goes  up  with  Hollyhock  aw^f  Mrs. 
Hollyhock.)  \RING  curtain. 

CURTAIN. 


-')ii-?^^,^^Vi^:Aiif&t:^.-..  ■ 


Or^  Gtsting  the  Boomerangf*  53 


ACT   III. 

SCENE.  —  An  elegant  apartment  in  a  New  York  flat.  To 
the  window^  l.  i  e.,  there  is  a  practicable  ledge  or  shelf 
and  a  shade.  Also  heavy  curtains.  The  door  to  the  room 
down  stage  r.,  opens  out.  There  is  a  tall  mirror^  r.,  be- 
tween the  doors.  Near  window^  l.,  a  desk  covered  with 
writing-materials.  A  revolving  book-holder  beside  it. 
Bust  of  Dickens  and  two  candelabra  on  desk.  On  mantel- 
shelf, c,  a  bust  of  Shakespeare  and  two  candelabra. 
Divan,  c.  Table  and  easy-chairs  in  front  of  chimney,  c. 
Doors,  R.  c. ;  R.  I  E. ;  R.  3  E. ;  and  l.  3  e.  Door  opening 
into  second  room,  l.  c.     Chandelier,  c. 

"Nature"  Waltz  from  "The  Merry  War,"  at  rise 
of  curtain.  Begin  before  curtain.  Jessie  discov- 
ered, arranging  flower  in  her  hair  before  the  mir- 
ror.    READ  Y  Tamborini,  to  enter  l.  c. 

Jessie  {waltzing). 

"Fair  Melanie — so  they  say  all  can  see, 
Loved  fair  nature,  only  nature, 
As  she  roamed  the  wild  wood  free  ; 
Oh,  what  delight  fills  the  heart,  heaves  the  breast, 
When  all  dreaming,  idly  dreaming,  'neath  the  trees  .one  lies  to  rest." 

{Speaks.)  Oh,  how  that  music  do  go  through  me.  I  can 
never  raise  my  arms  to  do  a  bit  of  work  when  I  hear  a  waltz 
nowadays,  and  I've  been  to  three  balls  in  three  weeks  — 
and  another  one  to-night,  if  I  can  get  off  to  go.  I'm  going 
to  wear  Missis'  garnet  silk.     She  so  seldom  wears  it.     It 


5i  Seven -Twenty -Eight;  ;    i        * 


I 


can't  make  no  matter  to  her  whether  it  stays  packed  away 
in  her  trunk,  or  whether  it  goes  to  the  ball  with  me.  And 
I've  sewed  on  a  pair  of  Mrs.  Bargiss's  mousquetaire  tops  to 
my  three-buttoned  kids.  The  bracelets  will  just  cover  the 
seams.  Oh,  that  music  1  (Smgs  and  waltzes^  Oh !  I  do 
hope  they'll  play  that  waltz  to-night.  I  got  these  flowers 
from  Miss  Florence's  old  leghorn.  They'll  make  a  lovely 
wreath.  Oh,  I  wouldn't  miss  the  ball  to-night  for  a  million. 
{Gets  up  stage,  r.  ;  comes  down  with  waltz  step,  and  waving  her 
arms^ 

ENTER  Tamborini,  l.  c.  ;  he  is  entranced  by  the  music,  and 
dances  ad  lib.  At  the  finish  she  is  about  to  fall,  and  he 
catches  her  a  la  ballet,  holding  his  opera-hat  over  her  head. 

Why  —  Mr.  Tamborini  !     {Runs  down  with  a  little  crj>.) 

[READ  Y  Mrs.  Bargiss,  to  enter  r.  i  d. 

Tamborini  (r.).  It  was  beautiful.  It  was  exquise. 
Brava !  Brava !  Ah,  you  make  a  prima  ballerina,  my  child. 
You  have  the  applomb,  the  abandon,  the  throw  of  the  true 
ballet. 

Jes,  Do  you  think  so,  Mr.  Tamborini  ?  I  do  so  love 
music  and  dancing. 

Tam.  Basta!  There  is  no  music  any  more.  This  Keel- 
perd  and  Zolifon  style  of  thing  is  all  stuff. 

Jes.   (l.).    Keelperd  ?    Oh,  you  mean  Gilbert  and  Sullivan. 

Tam.  And  there  is  no  more  ballet  in  this  country.  In- 
stead of  talking"  with  the  eye,  the  hand,  the  finger,  the  foot, 
the  toe  —  they  come  down  to  talk  with  the  poor  little  insig- 
nificant tongue  that  nobody  can  see.  {Enthitses.)  Ah  !  Ah  ! 
If  you  come  with  me  to  my  country,  I  show  you  some  things. 

Jes.  {coolly  waves  him  off').  Yes.  Exactly.  But  please 
—  who  do  you  wish  to  see  —  old  Missis  or  young  Missis  ? 

\_He  makes  an  enthusiastic  dash  for  her, 
{She  bobs  under  his  arm  and  bounds  off  "r.)  I'll  go  and  tell 
them  both  you're  here.     {EXIT,  r.  i  e.)  '     . 


&feit:i.«i.;-^J ',*'■, ;MsiaStiie*.4S,r,,''-«  ■„,  ._:■:.-;-,_.,  .-'.'^^ ':«;•&■-.-,._.  <■  l» -..;.-/■»  ^,-.'!^-;?i^.~j!fS:-i:.iiiM&,- 


\  Ot,  Ousting  the  Boomefangf.  55 

Tam.  (kissing  his  hand  after  her).  Una  bella  !  The  Signo- 
ra  Bargiss  have  send  for  me  !  A  mysterious  communica- 
tion that  she  can  give  me  perhaps  some  information  about 
the  portrait. 

ENTER  Mrs.  Bargiss,  r.  i  V).^  preceded  by  Jessie. 

Jessie.     Missis  is  coming. 

Mrs.  Bargiss.     Oh,  have  you  come,  Signor  ? 

{READ  Y  Corliss,  to  enter  l.  c. 

Tam.  Signora !  {Profound  bow.)  I  have  received  your 
little  letter. 

Mrs.  B.  {to  Jessie).  Tell  Miss  Florence  I  wish  to  see 
her.  [Jessie  goes  off^  r.  c,  attitudinizing  till  off. 

{To  Tamborini.)     Have  you  been  to  Nahant? 

Tam.  Si,  Signora,  by  the  express  train.  {Gesture^  I 
found  nothing  but  the  cold  weather  that  freeze  —  the  ice, 
the  snow,  and  the  hotels  shut  up  like  everybody  was  dead.     ~^ 

Mrs.  B.  (r.).  I  wrote  you  that  I  might  be  able  to  give 
you  a  hint  regarding  the  original  of  that  portrait. 

Tam.  {ecstasy).  Ah,  Signora,  if  I  could  only  telegraph 
the  smallest  gleam  of  hope  to  his  lordship  ! 

Mrs.  B.  Possibly  you  may.  I  cannot  announce  anything;; 
definite  as  yet  —  but  I  have  a  few  important  questions  to-; 
ask  you  first  about  his  lordship.  . 

Tam.  Signora !  Ask  me  everything.  Here  is  my  whole 
heart.  {As  if  tearing  it  out  and  offering  it  with  both  hands.) 
Make  your  own  selection.     What  do  you  want  to  know  ? 

Mrs.  B.  Come  into  the  library.  We  shall  be  undis- 
turbed. 

Tam.  Ma  si  —  with  pleasure.  {Follows  her,  keeping  step  to 
dance  music,  which  still  continues.  She  turns.  He  checks  him- 
self and  bows  profoundly^     La  piego,  Signorz,  la  piego. 

{EXEUNT,  R.  I  D. 

ENTER  Jessie,  r.  c,  with  a  pair  of  Flossy's  shoes. 

.  ,    Jessie.     Yes,  Miss  Flos.     I'll  see  to  it. 


56  Seven -Twenty -Eight;  !    j 

ENTER  Corliss,  l.  c.  ' 

Corliss.  Will  you  have  the  kindness  to  give  my  card  to 
Miss  Florence  at  once  ?  Ah,  Jessie  1  Wasn't  Signor  Tam- 
borini  here  just  now  ? 

Jes.  {laughs).     Yes,  sir.     I  should  think  he  was. 

Cor.    What  did  he  want  ?  {^READ  Y  Flossy,  to  enter  r.  c. 

Jes.  I  don't  know.  He's  with  Mrs.  Bargiss  now  in  the 
library.  {Crosses  to  l.)  But  he  danced  for  me  most  beauti- 
ful, and  tra-la-la'd  divinely.  {Imitates  Tamborini,  holding  the 
slippers  over  her  head  in  her  L.  hand.) 

Cor.  (r.).    What  are  those  ? 

Jes.     Miss  Flossy's  shoes. 

Cor.  {aside).  Charming  slippers !  (7^  Jessie.)  And  you 
are  sure  Signor  Tamborini  didn't  see  her  ? 

Jes.     Oh,  sure. 

Cor.  {gives  her  money).  Add  that  to  your  collection  of 
coins.     {Stroking  the  slippers.)     Dear  little  slippers  1 

Jes.  {laughs).  He,  he,  he  !  {Going.)  Oh,  he />  in  love  I 
I'm  so  glad !     {EXIT,  l.  c.) 

Cor.  She  laughs  at  me.  She's  right.  I  am  a  fair  sub- 
ject for  ridicule.  I'm  growing  more  and  more  in  love  with 
this  girl  every  day,  and  yet  I  don't  know  whether  she  cares 
a  rap  for  me  or  not.  Haven't  been  able  to  bring  her  to  an 
explanation  since  she's  been  in  New  York.  All  I  do  is  to 
stand  at  my  windows  opposite  and  gaze  at  these  windows. 
She  never  appears.  And  now  this  infernal  Italian  is  back 
again.  I  must  get  the  start  of  him,  and  have  an  under- 
standing with  Flos  at  once. 

ENTER  Flossy,  r.  c.     Home  evening  dress. 

Flossy.     O  Mr.  Corliss  1     {Going  down  r.) 
Cor.     Won't  you  grant  me  a  short  interview? 
Flos.     I  would  with  pleasure,  but  mamma  has  sent  for 
me. 

Cor.     I  should  feel  greatly  obliged  if  you  would  give  me 


Or^  Gisting;  the  Boomerang.  57 

the  preference,  as  I  have  been  watching  my  opportunity  for 
some  days. 

Flos,  (aside).    And  so  have  I. 

Cor.  I  have  something  to  say  which  I  could  not  utter  to 
any  other  ear  on  earth  but  yours. 

Flos.  That's  very  odd.  Won't  you  be  seated  ?  {Aside.) 
Now  he'll  find  out  whether  he  can  get  the  bric-a-brac  he's  ^ 

looking  for,  or  not.     If  I  died  the  next  minute,  I'd  say  no. 
{Sits  R.) 

Cor.  {seated  c).     May  I  speak  candidly  ? 

Flos.    You  can  do  your  best,     /hate  all  subterfuges.  | 

Cor.     Then,  Miss  Florence  —  in  one  short  word —  :3 

Flos,  {interrupting  purposely).    Apropos^   did  you  know  - 

that  Signor  Tamborini  has  returned  ? 

Cor.  {indifferently).  Indeed!  {Aside.)  I  wish  I  had 
sent  him  to  Russia.  :  '^ 

Flos.     Are  you  acquainted  with  Lord  Lawntennis  ? 

Cor.  I  never  met  his  lordship.  His  reputation  abroad, 
I  believe,  is  that  of  a  crack-brained  sportsman.     He  came  ;^ 

here  to  hunt  buffaloes.     History  is  silent  as  to  any  other  - 

particulars.     But  to  return  to  our  subject.     What  I  have  to  % 

say  may  —  ':^ 

Flos,  {as  before).     Pardon  me  —  another  question.    Can  ? 

you  tell  me  —  as  an  authority  on  such  matters  —  they  say, 
you  know  everything  —  how  the  wife  of  an  EngliPl  earl  -:/^ 

ranks  at  the  European  courts  —  especially  at  Ber^  and  St. 
Petersburg?  -  ^^te  ■ 

Cor.     Does  his  lordship  interest  you  so  mucli^^  '" 

Flos.  Isn't  it  quite  natural  ?  The  story  Sounife  like  a 
fairy-tale;  so  unlike  our  matter-of-fact  customs.  A  noble 
earl  falls  in  love  with  the  portrait  of  a  gM — with  her  por- 
trait only  —  without  knowing  anything  about  her  —  without 

caring  for  anything  except  that  he  loves  h^.  {significantly) , 

and  not  even  asking  who  she  is  —  what  she  is  —  sends  his         /^ 
messenger  to  find  her  and  — 


58  Seven -Twenty- Eight }    ^  li      * 

Cor.  And  lay  his  hand  and  title  at  her  feet.  You  think 
she  ought  to  feel  very  happy  ? 

Flos.  To  be  the  wife  of  a  millionaire  lord  —  unquestion- 
ably. 

Cor.  And  yet  she  knows  nothing  of  him  except  that  his 
name  and  his  fortune  are  real.     That  is  very  little. 

Flos.     And,  pray,  what  is  wanting  ? 

Cor.  The  one  thing  without  which  there  can  be  no  hap- 
piness.    Let  me  quote  from  Heine,  — 

"  Angels  call  it  Heavenly  bliss, 
The  demons  call  it  Hell's  abyss. 
But  mortals  call  it  Love." 

Flos.  (Jaughs).  Ha,  ha,  ha !  Oh,  love  1  (Crosses  to  l.) 
Ha,  ha,  ha !  Love,  to  be  sure  !  Excuse  me  for  laughing. 
I  know  nothing  about  it,  although  the  novels  I've  read  are 
quite  full  of  the  subject,  and  very  charming  it  is  there.  But 
what  little  I've  seen  in  real  life  appears  to  me  utterly  un- 
reliable. 

Cor.   {rises).     Why,  Miss' Florence? 

Flos,  {sarcastically).  Because  the  gentlemen  of  to-day 
appear  to  set  too  high  a  value  on  their  love  and  too  little  on 
ours.  They  think  it  sufficient  to  come  grandly  forward,  after 
a  severe  internal  struggle  at  giving  up  their  freedom,  and  say 
to  the  girl:  "I  love  you."  It's  this  overpowering  sense  of 
their  giving  everything  and  getting  nothing  —  this  doing  a 
favor  and  making  a  sacrifice  and  driving  a  bargain,  that  re- 
pels and  exasperates  me.  I  don't  call  that  love.  {Crosses  to 
r.,  changing  her  tone  and  position  suddenly.)  But  you  had 
something  to  say  to  me.     {Sits  r.  c.) 

Cor.  {hesitating).     Had  —  had  I  ? 

Flos,  {impatiently).     Didn't  you  ask  me  for  an  interview  ? 

Cor.  {sits  c. ;  lo7v  tone).  Yes.  But  that's  all  over  now.  I 
—  I  have  nothing  to  say. 

{READ  Y  Mrs.  Bargiss,  to  enter  r.  i  d. 


.L,,-:-«-.'^-S:.i'S'.^^«...  ,-.  .-:  Jw_;j^j  ■  ..ji«A;^>'>  .5v;■'.'--v^^:'/N,,■i,?ii.;^",-■'K'^:;.%'i^^ 


,  -      -  *r?7s^'7'>Z*W^^^^S¥r?^^^^    ^^' 


Of,  Casting  the  Boomerang.  59 

Flos,  (rises).  Indeed!  Then  I  may  consider  myself  dis- 
missed? 

Cor.   {making  a  step).     I  beg  of  you  — 

Flos.  Pray,  make  no  excuses.  If  you  are  not  as  polite  as 
usual,  the  fault  is  doubtless  mine.  It  sha'n't  happen  again. 
{Going  to  door,  r.) 

Cor.  {hotly).  You  shall  not  leave  me  like  that.  You  shall 
listen  to  me. 

[READY ]'E.s?,i^,  with  candelabrum,  letters,  and ^a. 
pers,  to  enter  L.  C.  , 

Flos,  {with  varying  feeling).  Oh,  no,  I  shall  not.  I  will 
not  listen  to  you  now  —  nor  hereafter.  Excuse  my  departure. 
Good-evening.     {EXIT,  r.  i  d.,  hiding  her  own  emotion^ 

Cor.  {solus).  That  was  plain  enough.  But  what  could  I 
expect  t  She's  dazzled  by  a  title  and  wealth  like  all  the  rest. 
Merely  human  and  natural.  {Suddenly.)  No,  it's  not.  To 
look  like  an  angel  —  beguile  a  poor  wretch,  and  then  cut  him 
off  with  questions  about  earls'  wives  and  court  etiquette  — . 
and  yet  I  feel  I  could  win  her.  I  know  how,  if  I  could  only 
do  it  —  if  it  wasn't  so  impossible  for  a  man  in  love  to  preserve 
his  common-sense. 

ENTER  Mrs.  Bargiss,  r.  i  d. 

Mrs.  Bargiss.     I  heard  you  had  called,  Mr.  Corliss. 
Cor.     I  won't  keep  you  —  from  your  visitor. 
Mrs.  B.    Signor  Tamborini  ?    Oh,  he's  going.    I  left  Flos 
to  see  him  off.    Pray,  stay  a  minute  longer.    I  haven't  had  an 
opportunity  of  telling  you  how  greatly  we  are  indebted  to  you 
for  getting  us  this  house. 

[READY  Bargiss,  with  four  pens,  to  enter  l.  b 
Cor.  (l.).     I  trust  your  visit  to  the  city  fulfils  your  expec 
tations. 

Mrs.  B.     To  be  honest  —  not  quite. 
ENTER  Jessie,  l.  c.  ;  she  brings  in  a  candelabrum,  not  lighted^ 
and  some  letters  and  papers.     Puts  former  on  table  near 
mantel,  and  arranges  papers  on  desk  near  window^  l. 


'^•s?^'^M  -^.^'i^'?M  ' 


m^ 


60 


Seven  -Twenty  -  Eight ; 


Cor.    Indeed  ? 

Mrs.  B.  It  will  prove  of  great  value  to  my  husband's  lit- 
erary future,  of  course  (/le  bows) ;  but  as  for  me,  I'm  not  used 
to  being  left  so  much  alone.  Paul  and  Dora  have  found  their 
city  friends,  and  are  never  at  home.  My  husband  is  away  all 
day  with  the  Professor,  and  spends  his  nights  writing  in  his 
study. 

Cor.  I  have  noticed,  from  my  window  opposite  (points), 
that  he  keeps  his  lamp  burning  until  daylight.     {Gets  l.) 

Jessie,  {at  desk,  l.  ;  turns  suddenly  to  Mrs.  Bargiss  with  a 
cry).  Oh,  dear !  Oh,  ma'am  !  That  reminds  me  —  Mr.  Bar- 
giss's  lamp.  . 

Mrs.  B.    Well,  what's  the  matter  with  Mr.  Bargiss's  lamp  ? 

Jes.  I  took  it  to  be  mended  yestjerday  morning,  and  for- 
got to  bring  it  back.     I'll  go  for  it  ait  once.     {EXIT,  l.  c.) 

Mrs.  B.  Then  he  had  no  lamp  last  night.  That  accounts 
for  his  being  put  out  all  this  morning.  He  didn't  mention  it, 
but  I  knew  something  was  wrong.   ^{Crossing  to  desk,  L.) 

ENTER  Bargiss,  l.  d.,  pens  behind  his  ears,  one  in  his  mouth, 
and  one  in  his  hand,  as  before. 

Bargiss.  Has  the  mail  come,  Hypatia }  Ah,  how  are  you, 
Corliss .? 

Mrs.  B.  {gets  letters,  etc.,  from  desk,  and  gives  them  to  him). 
Here  it  is,  dear.  You  look  worried,  darling.  I'm  so  sorry 
you  are  vexed. 

Bar.  {opening  paper).  It's  only  natural  —  sitting  up  all 
night  to  write.     I'm  simply  overworked,  Hypatia. 

Mrs.  B.     But  you  were  not  writing  last  night,  surely. 

Bar.  {yawning,  and  looking  through  paper).  Ye  —  es.  I 
was  busy  at  my  society  novel. 

[Mrs.  Bargiss  looks  at  him  and  then  at  Corliss. 
(Bargiss  goes  on  lying,  unconscious  of  their  glances^  It's  a 
strange  thing  now,  Mr.  Corliss  —  but  I  can  work  only  at, 


( 


.  '^Sk^^^^lxM^^iki^.^,.. . ...  --■&:,: . 


.•:fi;r'^i^^jefii:;-Jr--^-^ii;2iiLfr.  .■ 


Ot,  Casting  the  Boomerang*  6i 

night.    When  every  one  is  in  bed  —  when  all  the  rest  of  the 
world  sleeps  —  I  go  on,  adding  chapter  to  chapter. 

Cor.  (r.  c,  trying  to  help  him  out).  Oh,  yes  —  I  see  —  by 
the  light  of  your  solitary  candle  —  like  Tasso  in  his  dungeon. 
{He  makes  signs  to  Bargiss,  who  fails  to  take.) 

Bar.     Candle  ?     No,  I  always  work  with  a  lamp. 

Mrs.  B.  (l.).  Launcelot,  did  you  work  last  night  with  a 
lamp,  too .? 

Bar.     Certainly,  my  love  —  why  not  ?    (l.  c,  crosses  to  r.) 

Mrs.  B.  {recoiling^  sotto  voce^  l.).  And  there  was  no  lamp 
there!     {Aloud.)    Launcelot! 

Cor.  {takes  his  hat — aside.)  The  lamp  is  about  to  ex- 
plode.    I'll  get  out  of  the  way.  {EXIT,  l.  c. 

Mrs.  B.     Launcelot ! 

Bar.  (r.  walks  up).     Now  what's  the  matter  with  you  ? 

Mrs.  B.  Your  lamp  has  been  gone  for  repairs  the  last 
two  days. 

Bar.  {appalled,  his  Jaw  falls  ;  a  moment's  pause.  Sinks  in 
chair  r.  of  divan.)     Heavens ! 

\jREAD  Y  Gasleigh,  to  enter  l.  c. 

Mrs.  B.  You  have  told  me  a  falsehood,  Launcelot — a 
petty,  mean  falsehood  —  a  falsehood  to  cover  some  hiddei^ 
wickedness.     Oh  1     {Sinks  on  divan,  c.) 

Bar.  {starting  up).     My  dear,  let  me  explain. 

Mrs.  B.  Explain !  {ibises.)  I  should  think  so.  You 
shall  explain  where  you  have  been  passing  your  nights  —  for 
this  isn't  the  first  time,  I'm  sure  of  it. 

Bar.  (r.  c).  First  and  foremost,  my  dear,  Professor 
Gasleigh  — 

Mrs.  B.  Never  mind  Professor  Gasleigh.  You  have] 
been  guilty  of  a  shameful  deception.  You've  kept  that! 
lamp  burning  in  your  room  every  night  —  nobody  dared  to 
go  in  for  fear  of  disturbing  you.  When  I  woke  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  night,  I  sigbed  to  think  how  you  were  toiling  — 
and  you  were  not  there  —  you  —  {In  aivful  tone.)  Where 
were  you,  Launcelot  ? 


KV-irki*'.:.-',. 


62  Seven  -Twenty  -:  Eight  j 


•;.-^' 


Bar.  (m<?i',  r.).  I  was  out  with  Gasleigh.  [6"^^  groans. 
{He  echoes  her  groan?)  Just  listen  to  me,  and  don't  growl  in 
that  infernal  manner. 

Mrs.  B.     I  won't  listen.     I  know  the  worst  is  coming. 

Gasleigh  appears  at  l.  c. 

Gasleigh.  May  I  come  in  ?  (c.)  Are  we  resting  from 
our  toil,  eh  ?  What  chapter  have  we  got  to  ?  Have  we 
reached  the  climax,  eh  ? 

Bar.  (r.).     Yes,  I  guess  we  have. 

Mrs.  B.  You  come  in  very  good  time,  sir.  I  shall  be 
glad  to  hear  your  version  of  this  scandalous  affair. 

Bar.     My  wife  won't  believe  — 

Mrs.  B.     How  can  I  ever  again  believe  what  you  tell  me  ? 

Gas.   {aside  to  Bargiss).     What  is  it  ? 

Bar.  {aside).  My  lamp  was  at  the  shop  getting  repaired 
last  night.  [Gasleigh  whistles. 

Mrs.  B.  Is  this  the  customary  thing  among  you  literary 
men? 

Gas,  {aside  to  Bargiss).     She  knows  you  were  out  ? 

Bar.  {same).  Every  night.  Fix  it  up.  Fix  it  up. 
{Nudges  Gasleigh.  Mrs.  Bargiss  almost  detects  him,  as  she 
crosses  c.     He  pretends  to  be  smoothing  something  in  his  sleeve.) 

Mrs.  B.  (c).     Where  have  you  and  my  husband  been  ? 

Gas.  (l.,  boldly).     At  work. 

Mrs.  B.  {to  Gasleigh).     At  work  ? 

Bar.     At  wo —  [Mrs.  Bargiss  turns  and  looks  at  him, 

—  ork. 

Mrs.  B.     By  lamplight  ? 

Gas.  No,  my  dear  madam.  Do  you  think  a  poet  labors 
only  at  his  desk  ?  This  is  the  least  and  the  last  of  his  toil. 
Tie  must  go  forth  —  mingle  with  his  kind  —  and  study  every 
phase  of  human  nature. 

Mrs.  B.     Is  it  necessary  to  do  that  at  night? 

Gas.     The  nature  of  man  is  furtive,  like  the  savage  beast, 


■} 


\    v.- 


1 


•y^l^:.  "- '"-.-'j^-'^  -■:-  ' !%- ^J^-''  :.<■■  .-"■'  ~-    . ';.-^  ~  ■•  ^•ft'^'pfr:?"  v^  -         ;.     ■     ■■^■-'>;- 
^  Or,  Casting  the  Boomerang*  63 


At  night  it  emerges  from  its  den  and  prowls.  We  have 
tracked  it  to  its  lair.  I  may  incidentally  mention  that  we 
have  gone  where,  if  we  were  not  poets,  we  could  not  have 
ventured  with  propriety. 

Mrs.  B.  (shocked).     Launcelot! 

Gas.  (l.).  Our  mission  preserved  us  from  contamination. 
Your  husband  is  writing  a  novel  of  life  —  how  can  he  picture 
vice  unless  he  sees  it  ? 

Bar.     You  hear,  my  dear  ? 

Gas.  The  dark  side  of  life  is  invisible  by  day.  Look  at 
Dickens  — 

Bar.     Yes,  my  dear  —  look  at  Dickens — Charley. 

Gas.  He  wandered  through  the  slums  of  London  in  dis- 
guise. , 

Bar.     Never  came  home  for  days. 

Gas.  Do  you  think  he  asked  his  wife's  permission  to 
make  that  pilgrimage  of  duty  ?  . 

Bar.     Certainly  not. 

Mrs.  B.  (c).  But  your  health,  Launcelot.  You  can't 
stand  it.     You  are  not  strong. 

Bar.  Oh,  yes  I  am.  I'm  bound  to  the  wheel.  What 
matters  it  ?     The  spirit  may  burst  its  bounds.     Let  it  come. 

Mrs.  B,  But  why  not  have  told  me  ?  Why  deceive  your 
own  wife  ?  I  could  have  seen  that  you  were  comfortably 
wrapped  up  before  you  went  out. 

Gas.     Poets  love  mystery,  my  dear  madam. 

Bar.  (r.,  taking  her  hand  affectionately).  I  wanted  to  spare 
you  anxiety,  my  darling. 

Gas.     That  was  his  only  solicitude. 

Bar.  (r.,  brings  Mrs.  Bargiss  down).    You  see,  it's  all  right. ' 

Mrs.  B.  (sighs).     I  don't  know. 

Bar.  I  didn't  do  it  for  the  sake  of  pleasure.  Many  a . 
time,  in  a  scene  of  gayety,  I've  wished  myself  somewhere ' 
else,  [She  presses  his  hand^ 

so  we  went  somewhere  else.    {Crosses  to  c.) 


k 


"  '         -  '-  '^■'■Y'['  '■-■'."_'-  ~j  '■■\-^'  ::■■■"■"    \'^i*i*->  ■  " 

64  Seven -Twenty -Eight  J 

[^SAg  looks  at  him  dubiously. 
But  I've  collected  enough  material  for  my  society  novel, 
and  now,  thank  goodness,  I  can  stay  at  home. 

Mrs.  B.     O  Launcelot,  if  you  only  — 

Bar.  (l.  of  Mrs.  Bargiss).  Let's  say  no  more  about  it. 
Go  and  wash  your  eyes,  so  the  children  won't  notice  any- 
thing.    There  —  there  — 

Mrs.  B.  {aside,  going).  I  begin  to  think  it  would  have 
been  better  if  we  hadn't  come  to  this  wicked  city.     {EXIT^ 

R.   ID.) 

Bar.  {to  Gasleigh).  Got  out  of  it  better  than  I  could 
have  expected.  It's  a  shame  to  impose  upon  her.  A  better 
woman  never  lived. 

Gas.  Lucky  for  you.  I  wish  I  could  get  out  of  my 
trouble  so  easily. 

Bar.     What's  the  matter  ? 

Gas.  My  printer  refuses  to  go  on  without  money.  The 
"  Scattered  Leaflets  "  must  stop.  Just  when  the  circulation 
was  increasing,  too.  Your  new  poem  was  to  come  out  in  the 
next  number.     It  would  have  made  a  tremendous  sensation. 

Bar.     What's  to  be  done  ? 

Gas.     Pay  or  stop.     {Stage  r.) 

Bar.     How  much  does  he  want  ? 

Gas.  {sinks  on  chair,  r.  c).  No  matter.  Let  it  go.  But 
I  should  like  to  have  had  the  credit  of  bringing  out  that 
poem  of  yours.  Still,  none  of  us  can  accomplish  all  we 
dream  of.     Let  it  go. 

Bar.  (l.).  Don't  be  down-hearted,  old  fellow.  Tell  me 
how  much  it  is. 

Gas.  a  trifle.  A  mere  bagatelle.  A  beggarly,  pitiful 
trifle.  One  of  the  grains  of  sand  that  genius  stumbles  over 
and  breaks  its  neck.  A  mean,  pitiful,  little,  petty  three  hun- 
dred dollars. 

Bar.  Three  hundred  dollars  ! !  I'll  give  you  a  check  for 
it.     There  —  cheer  up. 


Of^  Casting  the  Boomerang.  65 

Gas.  (risgs  — firmly).     No,  no  ;  you  shall  not. 

Bar.    Yes,  I  will. 

Gas.  Never!  Let  it  perish.  Let  me  perish.  Let  the 
magazine  perish. 

Bar.  No,  no.  I  don't  care  for  my  own  part,  but  it  gives 
my  wife  so  much  pleasure  to  see  me  in  print,  that  I'll  pay 
any  reasonable  sum  to  gratify  her. 

Gas.  {seizes  his  hand).  Bargiss,  you  are  a  great  man. 
Bargiss,  there's  more  poetry  and  fact  in  that  speech  than  in 
all  Byron's  works  bound  together. 

Bar.  {cheerfully).  My  forte  may  be  poetry,  I'm  pretty 
sure  it  isn't  prose.  My  novel  doesn't  seem  to  get  on.  Col- 
lecting material  is  quite  jolly  —  but  I  don't  see  my  way  to 
piecing  the  thing  out.  By  the  way  —  talking  of  piecing 
—  how's  my  piece  getting  on?  Have  you  seen  the  mana- 
gers ? 

Gas.  (r.).  You  can't  see  the  managers.  They  are  never 
in.  I've  sent  Charles  the  Fat  to  them  all  —  and  he's  back 
on  our  hands. 

Bar.     Must  have  lost  some  flesh  in  going  the  round,  eh  ? 

Gas.  We'll  carry  out  my  first  idea,  and  print  it  act  by 
act  in  the  "  Scattered  Leaflets."  Then  you'll  have  the 
whole  crowd  begging  for  it.     Now,  they  won't  even  read  it. 

Bar.  (l.).  Won't  read  it  ?  Won't  read  the  ndw  plays 
sent  them  ?    What  on  earth  have  they  got  to  do  ? 

Gas.  By  the  way,  you  spoke  of  your  want  of  practical  ex 
perience  in  theatrical  matters,  and  wanted  to  go  — 

Bar.  {quickly).     Behind  the  scenes. 

Gas.  {triumphantly).  We  can  get  on  the  Academy  stage 
to-night  in  the  auxiliary  corps  —  how's  that  ? 

B^R.    As  supernumeraries,  eh  ?    What's  the  jpera  ? 

\^READY  Hollyhock  and  Mrs.  Hollyhock,  in 
full  dress ^  with  wraps,  to  enter  L.  c. 

Gas.     I  don 't  know ;  but  you  go  as  a  high  priest. 

Bar.     Ain't  I  rather  short  for  a  high  priest  ? 


66  Seven -Twenty -Eight;   "  ' 

Gas.  a  tall  hat  and  a  long  beard  make  you  all  right. 
Then  you'll  have  a  first-rate  chance  to  study  the  whole 
mechanism  of  the  stage  —  scenery  —  decorations  —  actors  — 
and  dancers.     (J^ig  in  side.) 

Bar.     No  !     I  really  think  it  indispensable,  don't  you  ? 

Gas.  There's  only  on  j  difficulty  —  your  wife.  Will  she 
consent,  or  must  you  slip  off  ? 

Bar.  {decisively).  We'll  slip  off  this  time.  Just  once 
more  —  then  we'll  shut  down.     {Crosses  to  r.) 

Gas.  How  will  you  manage  ?  The  lamp  no  longer  holds 
out  to  burn. 

Bar.  {struck  with  an  idea).  Stop  —  I  can  have  a  head- 
ache —  and  then  go  to  the  study  and  lie  down  —  lock  my- 
self in  so  as  to  be  undisturbed.  You  engage  her  in  conver- 
sation, then  I  vanish. 

\_Mutual  crossing  and  turn  up  stage.     Take  hands  as 

they  advance,  singing  from  "  Puritani." 

{Suddenly  stops  and  puts  his  hand  on  Gasleigh's   mouth.) 

Sh!     Here  come  the  children.     {Crosses  to  "l.)     I'll  go  and 

make  out  that  check  for  you.     {EXIT,  followed  by  Gas- 

LEIGH,  L.  D.) 

ENTER  Hollyhock  and  Mrs.  Hollyhock,  l.  c,  in  full 
dress  and  with  wraps,  as  if  from  street.    Both  very  gay  and 
fashionable.     They  take  off  over-wraps  as  they  talk. 

Mrs.  Hollykock  (r.).  Thank  goodness,  we  are  home 
again.     I'm  ready  to  drop. 

Hollyhock.  I  feel  as  fresh  as  a  daisy.  Let  me  assist 
you. 

Mrs.  H.     Oh  !    {Sinks  on  divan,  c.)    Fresh  as  a  daisy,  in- ' 
deed  ?    That  dinner  has  just  ended  me.     We  have  been  on 
the  go  from  morning  till  night.     Drive,  park,  lunch,  matinie, 
receptions,  Delmonico's  —  I  want  to  go  to  bed.    {Yawns.) 

HoL.  Lie  down  for  an  hour,  darling,  and  you'll  be  ready 
for  the  theatre.  .^-^ 


^^ji^iii^Siie^ 


. -_  .   Oif  Casting:  the  Boomerang,  €^ 

Mrs.  H.  (eyes  closed).  Have  we  got  to  go  to  the  theatre 
to-night? 

*     .  [READ  Y  Bargiss,  with  bank-check,  and  Gasleigh, 

to  enter  l.  d. 

HoL.  The  Evartses  asked  us,  you  know.  They  have  a 
"box.  I  got  a  bill  at  the  hotel  to  see  what  it  was.  {Takes 
out  a  large  handbill  from  his  tail-pocket.')  It's  Janauschek  in 
two  of  her  best  parts,  —  tragedy  and  comedy.  "  Leah,  the 
Forsaken,"  and  *'  Come  Here."  Come  here  —  that  makes 
you  want  to  go  there,  doesn't  it?  How's  the  attraction? 
{Spreads  it  out  over  his  chest^ 

Mrs.  H.   {languidly).     I  don't  feel  like  stirring. 

HoL.  Every  woman  ought  to  see  "  Come  Here. "  It's  an 
example  for  'em.  Nobody  talks  in  the  whole  piece  but  the 
man.     Awful  warning  to  the  sex.     {Lays  bill  on  c.  divan.) 

Mrs.  H.  {on  divan).     Let's  stay  home  for  once. 

HoL.  {dissatisfied).  We  needn't  have  come  to  New  York 
to  do  that.     {Crosses  and  sits  r.) 

Mrs.  H.  I  hardly  recognize  you,  Paul.  Since  we  left 
home  you  have  changed  your  whole  nature.  You  can't  rest 
— you  burn  for  excitement. 

HoL.  The  spirit  of  the  metropolis,  my  darling.  It's  in  the 
air. 

Mrs.  H.  But  you  overdo  it,  darling.  Now,  sit  down  calmly 
while  I  preach  a  sermon. 

Hol.     Heavens  1     {Brings  chair  to  her.) 

[She  talks  soothingly  while  he  gesticulates  forcibly. 

ENTER  Bargiss,  l.  d.,  with  Gasleigh,  handing  him  a  check. 

Bargiss.  There  you  are.  That  will  keep  the  "  Scattered 
Leaflets  "  together  for  a  while  longer.     {They  go  aside,  l.) 

Hol.  {to  Mrs.  Hollyhock).  Well,  I'm  content  for  to- 
night. But  to-morrow  we  must  go  to  the  opera.  Your 
mother  asked  Tamborini  to  get  us  a  box.  There's  a  rush  to 
see  the  new  contralto.    '{Rises  and  comes  forward  briskly^    1 


68  Seven -Twenty -Bglit   ~  p  *t 

say,  father-in-law,  will  you  go  with  us  ?  No,  you  can't.  You*re 
too  busy. 

Bar.  {suddenly putting  his  hand  to  his  head).  I'can't  —  I've 
got  such  a  headache.     Oh  ! 

Mrs.  H.  O  papa !  That's  overwork.  I  know  it's  caused 
by  what  you've  been  doing.    {Stage  r.) 

Bar.  (aside).     No,  it's  caused  by  what  I'm  going  to  do. 

Mrs.  H.     Can't  you  take  a  little  rest? 

Bar.  (l.,  crossing  to  Mrs.  Hollyhock).  Ah,  ah !  Such  a 
hammering !     Just  here  1     Oh,  oh  ! 

Mrs.  H.     Poor  papa  1     {Coming  to  him.) 

Bar.  {walks  up  and  down).  Don't  pity  me.  Call  your 
mamma. 

Mrs.  H.     Yes,  papa ;  and  I'll  get  some  ice  to  put  on  it, 

too.       {EXIT,  R.  ID.) 

HoL.  {advances  to  Bargiss).  I'm  awfully  sorry  about  that 
head  —  where  did  you  get  it  ? 

Bar.    Sh  !    Don't  say  anything.    I  haven't  got  a  headache. 

HoL.     Why  —  what  ?  [Gasleigh  gets  around  to  r. 

Bar.  I  have  the  utmost  confidence  in  your  discretion, 
Paul.  {Takes  his  hand.)  And  so  I  want  to  whisper  that  it's 
a  little  ruse  to  enable  me  to  go  out  this  evening  with  the  Pro- 
fessor. 

HoL.  {assuming  an  air  of  severity).  Ahem,  papa !  {Shakes 
his  head.) 

Bar.  (l.).  What  do  you  mean,  sir,  by  shaking  your  head } 
It's  what  Dickens  did.     They  all  do  it. 

Hol.  {coolly).     Where  are  you  going  ? 

Bar.  {whispers).     To  the  Academy. 

Gasleigh  {whispers).     Behind  the  scenes. 

Hol.  (c,  brightening).  No  1  Can  you  get  behind  the 
scenes  ? 

Bar.  Yes ;  as  a  supernumerary.  I'm  to  be  disguised  as  a 
high  priest. 

Gas.  (r.).     Yes.     A  high  priest  in  the  opera. 


Or^  Casting  the  Boomerang.  0 

HoL.    OhI 

Bar.  As  you  are  going  to  stay  at  home  to-night,  you  can 
keep  Hypatia  quiet  while  I'm  gone. 

HoL.  (serious).     No,  I  can't  do  it. 

Bar.     Why  not  ? 

HoL.  I  will  not  assist  in  a  plot  to  deceive  my  wife's 
mother.     (Stage^  r.) 

[READ  Y  Mrs.  Bargiss,  to  enter  r.  i  d.^ 

Bar.     Then  you'll  betray  me  ? 

HoL.     No,  sir.     I'll  go  with  you.    (Back  to  c.) 

Bar.  (staggers  against  piano,  sits  down  and  stares  at  him ; 
Gasleigh  also^    You — what? 

HoL.  (crosses  to  him).  Now,  don't  become  excited,  papa. 
If  you  go,  I  go. 

Bar.  (l.).    Have  I  warmed  a  serpent  ? 

{READ  Y  Jessie,  with  folded  napkins  and  some 
cracked  ice  in  a  bowl,  to  enter  l.  c. 

HoL.  (c).     It's  my  duty  to  watch  over  you. 

Bar.  (starts  up).  You  go  behind  the  scenes  in  a  promise 
cuous  gathering  ?     Suppose  you  should  be  recognized  ? 

HoL.  I  will  go  also  as  a  high  priest.  (To  Gasleigh.)  I 
suppose  there's  more  than  one  ? 

Gas.  (r.).  You  can  take  my  place.  I  was  to  be  a 
conspirator. 

HoL.  The  very  thing.  Just  in  my  line.  As  a  conspira- 
tor, I'm  unequalled.  I  believe  it  requires  the  hat  pulled 
down  —  the  cloak  drawn  tightly —  thus  —  the  dagger  grasped 
In  the  right  hand  —  and  a  hoarse  laugh  in  three  syllables. 
Ha,  ha,  ha!     How's  that?     {Crosses  to  n.) 

Gas.     Capital. 

[Bargiss  and  Hollyhock  stride  across  to  r.  A/I 
laugh  heartily,  particularly  Bargiss,  7vho  suddenly 
breaks  into  a  groan  at  sight  of  Mrs.  Bargiss. 

ENTER  Mrs.  Bargiss,  r.  i  d. 


-f^:T'']^i--^^^.^J^ti, 


-^-i  --'   »*..' 


W  Seven -Twenty -Eight} 


Mrs.  Bargiss.  Why,  my  darling  —  I  didn't  know  you  had 
a  headache.     Dora  has  just  gone  for  some  ice. 

Bar.  {gruffly).  Of  course  I've  got  a  headache.  I  always 
have  a  headache  when  I'm  put  out. 

Mrs.  B.  {gently).     It  isn't  my  fault  this  time. 

Bar.  I  didn't  say  it  was,  did  I  ?  Oh,  my  head,  my  head! 
{Up  and  down  stage  l.) 

ENTER  Jessie,  l.  c,  with  napkins  folded,  and  cracked  ice  in 

bowl. 

Jessie.     Here's  the  ice,  sir.     {EXIT,  l.  c.) 

Mrs.  B.  I'll  put  on  the  bandage  directly.  Have  a  little 
patience. 

Bar.  That  won't  help  it.  {Goes  up  and  pushes  her  hand 
away.) 

Mrs.  B.     Well,  I  never  !     {Goes  to  ice.) 

HoL.  {suddenly  puts  hand  to  his  head,  and  walks  up  and 
down  R.)     Oh  !     O  —  o  —  hi 

Mrs.  B.     Have  you  a  headache,  too  ? 

HoL.  Ever  since  dinner,  and  it's  growing  worse  every 
minute.     Oh !     Oh ! 

Bar.  Oh !  Oh  !  Such  a  hammering  at  the  back  of  my 
head.     (  Up  and  down.) 

HoL.     Mine's  right  in  front.     {Up  and  down.) 

Mrs.  'B.'{bri?igihg  down  an  iced  cloth).  Do  let  me  put  this 
on. 

Bar.  You  may —  it  won't  -do  any  good.  \_She  ties  it  on. 
Oh  !     Oh  !     The  cold  water's  running  down  my  back  ! 

HoL.  I'll  try  one,  but  it'll  only  make  me  worse,  I  know. 
{Goes  to  table  and  puts  one  on,  assisted  by  Gasleigh.) 

Gas.  (l.  of  divan,  putting  bandage  round  HoLLYHOCK's_/j7r<?- 
heaa).  There's  nothing  like  rest  for  a  headache.  Quiet  and 
undisturbed  rest.  Let  me  suggest  that  you  lie  down  for  a 
few  hours. 

Bar.  {meekly).     Do  you  think  it  would  do  me  good  ^ 


■■~^v- 


f 


Of^  Casting  the  Boomerang*  71 

Mrs.  B.     Of  course  it  will.     Go,  dear,  at  once. 

Bar.     I'll  lie  on  the  sofa  in  the  study. 

HoL.  I'll  go  with  you.  It's  the  only  place  I'm  sure  of 
quiet.     Oh !  Oh  !     My  poor  head  !     {EXIT,  l.) 

Bar.  {to  Mrs.  Bargiss,  who  assists  him).  Don't  let  any 
one  come  near  me  —  on  any  account.  Oh  !  Oh  !  My 
head !  {As  he  goes  l.,  he  winks  and  shakes  his  foot  at  Gas- 
LEIGH.      EXIT,  L.  D.) 

Mrs.  B.  Poor  Launcelot !  He  never  had  such  a  head- 
ache before.  I  do  think  I  ought  to  sit  by  him  and  bathe  his 
temples.     {Resolute^  and  about  to  go  after  him.)     I  will. 

Gas.  {coughing  slightly).     Ahem  1 

Mrs.  B.  {turns.  He  makes  a  sign  of  silence  to  her).  What 
is  it? 

Gas.  Something  for  you.  {Taps  his  breast  pocket.)  A 
little  surprise. 

Mrs.  B.     I'm  getting  a  good  many  surprises  to-day. 

Gas.     The  "  Sonnets  to  a  Fiancee  "  are  out. 

Mrs.  B.    At  last .? 

Gas.  They'll  be  on  sale  at  every  bookstore  ^o-morrow. 
What  do  you  think  of  it?  {Produces  a  red  cloth  bound 
book,  gilt-edged,  and  gilt  sides  and  back^  This  is  the  first 
copy  struck  off  and  bound.  Permit  the  humble  printer  to 
present  it  to  the  esteemed  patron,  in  honor  of  the  gifted 
author. 

Mrs.  B.  (l.).  Oh,  how  kind  of  you,  Professor !  And 
Bargiss  suspects  nothing  ? 

Gas.     Nothing. 

Mrs.  B.  {shakes  his  hand).  And  the  binding  is  so  rich. 
{Crosses  to  R.) 

Gas.     It —  a  —  cost —  a  little  more  than  the  estimate. 

Mrs.  B.  I'll  pay  it  cheerfully.  {Opens  book  and  reads 
title.)  "  Sonnets  to  a  Fiancee,  by  Launcelot  Bargiss." 
{Crosses  to  r.) 

Gas.  {takes  his  hat).    My  dear  madam.    I  see  that  you 


■i 


72  Seven -Twenty -Eight;     ^         *       P 

would  be  alone  with  this  memento  of  your  happiest  years. 
Allow  me  to  take  my  leave. 

\READ  Y  Jessie,  with  student-lamp,  to  enter  l.  c. 

Mrs.  B.  Oh  —  a  —  Professor  —  there's  another  little 
thing.  We  must  get  the  book  noticed  well,  you  know.  Will 
you  see  that  the  critics  are  put  in  good  humor  ? 

Gas.  (strides  to  her ;  folds  his  arms).  Madam,  you  touch 
me  on  a  sore  spot.  Against  the  gigantic  monopoly  of  mod- 
ern criticism  —  against  the  critics'  ring  I  have  set  my  face. 
We  are  going  to  crush  it. 

Mrs.  B.  (r.).     How  ? 

Gas.  We  are  going  to  have  the  authors  criticise  their 
own  works.  It  will  be  the  triumph  of  the  19th  century 
over  the  customs  of  the  past.     {EXIT,  l.  c.) 

\^REAZ>  Y  Flossy,  with  book,  to  enter  r.  c. 

Mrs.  B.  {comes  down,  turning  over  the  pages).  How  pretty 
they  do  look  in  print !  With  every  one  comes  a  memory. 
This  came  after  his  first  bouquet.     {Recites.) 

"I  sent  thee  late  a  rosy  wreath, 
Not  so  much  honoring  thee, 
As  giving  it  a  hope  that  there 
It  might  not  withered  be." 

{Speaks.)     And  this  came  enclosed  with  the  invitation  to  a 
picnic.     {Recites.) 

"When  daisies  pied  and  violets  blue, 
And  lady-smocks  all  silver  white, 
Do  paint  the  meadows  with  delight." 

Ah  !  {Closes  book  with  a  sigh  as 

Jessie  ENTERS,   l.   c,   bringing   in  a  student-lamp,   not 
lighted,  which  she  places  on  table  c,  and  lowers  the  win- 
dow-shade L. 
It  will  be  a  grand  surprise  for  Launcelot  at  breakfast  to- 
morrow.    I'll  put  the  volume  under  his  napkin.     He'll  dis- 


Of^  Casting:  the  Boomerangf*  73 

cover  it  — he'll  read  all  his  little  sonnets  in  print  —  and 
it  will  be  the  sensation  of  his  life. 

{READ  Y  Mrs.  Hollyhock,  with  letter,  to  enter  r.  3  d. 

Jessie  {timidly,  l.).    Please  'm,  I've  a  favor  to  ask  of  you. 

Mrs.  B.     What  is  it,  Jessie  ? 

Jes.     I'd  like  to  ask  if  I  could  go  to  the  Private  Coach- 
man's ball  to-night,  ma'am. 

Mrs.  B.     Certainly  not.     You  know  this  is  Betty's  night 

ENTER  Flossy,  with  book,  r.  c. 

off  and,  besides,  Mr.  Bargiss  is  ill.     If  anything  happened,  I 
wouldn't  have  a  person  to  send  with  a  message. 
Jes.  {begins  to  cry).     I  never  have  any  time  off. 
Mrs.  B.     You  can  go  some  other  night. 
Jes.     Some  other  night  won't  be  the  Private  Coachman's 
.  ball.     {EXIT,  L.  c.) 

[Flossy /a/j  book  on  table,  and  looks  for  another. 
Mrs.  B.     What  are  you  doing,  Florence  ? 
Flossy.     I'm  getting  something  to  read.     {Selects  a  book 
and  brings  it  down.) 

[Mrs.  Bargiss  takes  if  out  of  her  h'and,  as  a  matter 
of  course,  and  looks  at  the  title  on  the  back. 
Mrs.  B.     "  La  Bruy^re's  Characters  ! "     {Hands  it  back  to 
Flossy.)      That's  the  book   Mr.   Corliss    recommends    so 
highly. 

Flos,  {confused).     Is  it  ?     I  had  forgotten.     {Turns  leaves 
over  and  sits  on  divan^ 

ENTER  Mrs.  Hollyhock,  r.  3  d.,  with  a  letter. 

Mrs.  Hollyhock.     Where  is  Paul — does  any  one  know? 

Mrs.  B.  (c).     In  the  study,  with  papa. 

[Mrs.  Hollyhock  about  to  go. 
You  mustn't  distuirb  them.  They  are  both  suffering  from 
headache.  [READ  Y  Jessie,  to  enter  l.  c. 


74  Seven -Twenty  -  Eigfht  J 

Mrs.  H.  (r.)  No  wonder,  with  the  life  we  are  leading. 
{Shows  letter.)  Here's  a  letter  from  home.  It's  written  by 
Jobbins  to  me. 

Mrs.  B.     To  you  ?  • 

Mrs.  H.  {crosses  to  l.)  Yes.  He  has  written  eight  times 
to  Paul  and  got  no  answer.  Everything's  at  sixes  and 
sevens  on  the  farm. 

Mrs.  B.  {takes  letter  and  glances  over  it).  It's  too  bad.  I 
told  you  he  wasn't  the  husband  for  you,  Dora.  You'll  bear 
me  out  that  I  warned  you  against  that  man.  {Hands  letter 
back.)  When  Flossy's  turn  comes,  I'll  have  a  little  more  of 
my  own  way.     {Stage  r.) 

[READ  Y  Tamborini,  to  eftter  l.  c. 

Flos,  {comic  despair,  c).  Oh,  mamma,  I  sha'n't  trouble 
you  for  a  long  time  yet.      {Puts  her  book  on  table,  c.) 

Mrs.  B.  (r.,  affectionately  stroking  her  chin).  We  don't 
know,  child.  We  don't  know.  I  may  have  something  to 
say  to  you  soon. 

Flos,  {starting).     Mamma ! 

Mrs.  B.   {soothingly) .     Oh,  it's  nothing  yet. 

ENTER  Jessie,  at  L.  c,  and  savagely. 

Jessie.  Signor  Tamborini  wants  to  know  if  you  are  at 
home. 

Mrs.  B.  {crosses  to  Jessie).  What  kind  of  a  tone  is  that 
to  speak  to  me  ?     Show  Mr.  Tamborini  up  instantly. 

[jESSiEy?/«^j  herself  out,  l.  c. 
That  girl  has  been  ruined  by  the  city.  All  this  because  she 
can't  go  to  the  Private  Coachman's  ball.  {Changing  tone 
and  smiling  mysteriously^  Florence,  I  think  you  had  better 
not  be  present  when  Signor  Tamborini  delivers  his  message. 

Flos.  (r.  quickly  and  seriously).  Mamma  —  has  this  visit 
any  connection  with  what  you  have  just  hinted  to  me  ? 

Mrs.  B.     Perhaps,  darling  —  perhaps. 


Or^  dsting  the  Boomerang.  75 

Flos.  (Aof/y).     Gh,  mamma!     Pray  don't  think  of  Lord 
Lawntennis.     I  couldn't  —  never,  never!     (EXIT,  r.  c.) 
Mrs.  B.     We'll  see  when  his  lordship  offers  himself. 

ENTER  Tamborini,  l,  c. 

Tamborini.  Oh,  Signora  !  I  haf  been  so  fortunate  as  to 
secure  the  box  for  you  for  the  new  opera  to-morrow  that  you 
wanted.  There  will  be  a  great  crowd.  Immense  success  — 
splendid.  They  haf  a  full  dress  rehearsal  this  evening.  I 
just  come  from  there. 

Mrs.  B.  Thank  you,  Signor.  My  daughter's  husband  will 
be  greatly  obliged. 

Tam.     Oh,  the  tickets  are  for  your  son-in-law? 

Mrs.  B.     Yes. 

Tam.  Then  I  might  as  well  have  handed  them  to  him  on 
the  stage  before  I  came  away. 

Mrs.  B,  (r.).     Handed  him  —  on  the  —  stage  ? 

Mrs.  H.  (l.).     Mr.  Hollyhock? 

Tam.  Ma  si.  Yes.  I  just  saw  him  there.  He  is  one 
brigand  —  one  bandit.  He  is  a  —  {gesture  of  eating  souf)  he 
is  a  —  supe  I 

Mrs.  B.   )  .      What  ? 

Mrs.  H.  I  ^t'Sether).    ^^  husband? 

Tam.  {aside  —  taps  left  elbow  with  his  right  hand,  while  his 
left  is  held  to  forehead ;  crosses  to  R.).  I  make  one  blunder. 
His  wife  and  moder  not  know  he  is  out. 

Mrs.  H.  Mother  !  My  husband  on  the  stage  !  Behind 
the  scenes  1  I'll  go  there  this  minute.  I'll  see  for  myself. 
{Rushes  up  for  her  cloak.)  I'll  drag  him  home,  costume  and 
all. 

\^READ  V  Jessie,  with  Mrs.  Bargiss's  cloah  and 
hat,  to  enter  l.  c. 

Mrs.  B.  {following  her^.  Dora,  you  will  do  nothing  of  the 
kind.  A  man.  like  that  is  not  to  be  run  after.  He  is  to  be 
despised,     {Very  vigorously^ 


76  Seven  -Twenty  -  "Eight ; 

Mrs.  H.  (l.,  tearfully).  I  do  despise  him  —  but  I  want  to 
see  him  with  my  own  eyes.     {Gets  cloak.) 

Mrs.  B.  No,  no.  I'll  send  your  father.  He  is  the  proper 
person  to  take  care  of  my  gentleman. 

Tam.  Is  that  so  ?  Ah,  then,  it  is  all  right.  Mr.  Bargiss 
can  take  care  of  him.  He  is  there,  too.  He  is  one  high 
priest.     {Describes  flowing  beard,  etc.) 

Mrs.  B.  (screams).  What?  Bargiss?  My  husband,  too ! 
{Touches  bell  furiously.)  Jessie!  {Up  c.)  Jessie  I  My  cloak 
and  hat !     {Furiojis^ 

Tam.  I  make  one  oder  mistake.  {Renews  pantomime  of 
tapping  elbow.) 

Mrs.  H.  It's  an  outrage  —  an  insult.  {She  walks  to  and 
fro.)  [Rain  and  lightning. 

Mrs.  B.  Signer  Tamborini,  will  you  conduct  my  daughter 
and  myself  to  that  place  instantly  ?  {To  Mrs.  Hollyhock.) 
We'll  drag  them  home  just  as  we  find  'em.  \Rain. 

Tam.     But,  Signora,  it  is  raining.  \Loud  storm. 

It  is  great  storm. 

ENTER  Jessie,  l.  c,  with  Mrs.  Bargiss's  cloak  and  haty 
which  she  helps  her  to  put  on. 

Mrs.  B.     No  matter.     I'd  go  through  floods  and  deluges. 

Tam.     But  how  shall  I  get  you  in  there  ?     I  know  not. 

Mrs.  B.     You'll    find    a  way.      {Suddenly  bringing  him 
front.)     Signor !     You  are  seeking  the  original  of  that  por-  " 
trait.    I'll  show  her  to  you  to-morrow  if  you  take  us  on  that 
stage  to-night. 

Tam.  {with  fire).  With  that  promise,  Signora,  you  may 
twist  me  round  your  leetle  finger.     {Gesture^     Come  ! 

\The  storm  is  very  furious. 

Mrs.  B.  {going  up).  Now,  then,  Dora.  We'll  take  a 
carriage. 

Mrs.  H.  (jgoing  up).    Now,  then,  mamma. 


Ot,  Casting  the  Boomerangf*  77 

Tam.     There  will  be  a  tableau  on  that  stage  to-night. 

l^EXEUNT  L.  c. 

Jessie.  Well,  What's  up  now !  All  of  'em  running  head 
first  to  the  theatre.  She  don't  seem  to  be  frightened  as 
much  as  she  was  about  the  old  gentleman's  illness.  Per- 
haps he's  better.  I  guess  they  won't  miss  me  if  I  run  down 
to  the  ball  for  an  hour.  {Peeps  in  at  room^  r.  c.)  Miss 
Flossy's  there.  {Looks  towards  door  l.)  And  the  gentlemen 
are  in  there.  {Turns  chandelier  down  :  stage  haif  dark.)  I'll 
just  have  one  dance,  and  get  home  before  they  get  back. 
{EXIT,  L.  c.) 

The  noises  of  the  rain  are  very  strong,  with  flashes  of  lightning 
and  distant  thunder.  The  stage  is  deserted  a  few  seconds. 
Then  the  door  of  Flossy's  room  opens,  and  she  ENTERS 
with  a  little  shaded  lamp,  lighted. 

[READ  V  Postman,  with  bag,  to  enter  l.  c. 

Flossy.     Where  did  I  leave  my  book  ? 

[  Violent  gust  of  wind  and  rain.  Shutters  slam. 
{She  starts,  frightened.)  Oh,  what  a  flash !  I  had  it  here. 
{Finds  book  on  table^  Ah,  here  it  is.  What  a  storm  !  It's 
enough  to  frighten  one.  I  always  did  tremble  at  a  storm. 
{Goes  to  window,  raises  the  shade  a  little  and  peeps  out.) 
Ugh !  What  weather !  I  pity  any  one  who  has  to  go  out. 
{Looks  across  street.)  He's  at  home.  At  least  there's  a 
light  in  his  room.  How  I  hate  a  man  that  never  goes  out, 
but  walks  up  and  down  in  his  room  like  a  polar  bear  in  his 
cage.  He  comes  to  his  window.  He  looks  across.  {Angry, 
pulls  shade  down.)  What  business  has  he  to  be  staring 
across !  {Peeps  cautiously  through  corner  of  shade.)  That's 
another  of  his  impertinences.  I  wonder  how  he'd  like  to 
have  anyone  staring  across  at  him  ! 

\_Front  door-bell  rifigs.  Lightfiing. 
Now  he  leaves  the  window.  Oh,  dear,  I  hope  he  didn't 
notice  my  peeping  over !  [Bell  again.     Rain  and  wind. 


78  Seven -Twenty -Eight  J 

I  wouldn't  have  that  for  the  world.     He's  just  capable  of 
suspecting  that  I  peeped  on  his  account. 

\_Ben  again.  Lightning.  Storm  ceases. 
Who  can  be  ringing  so  ?  Is  Jessie  deaf  ?  {Goes  to  c.  and 
calls.)  Jessie!  Jessie!  She  seems  to  be  out.  {Goes  out 
L.  c.  and  presently  returns  after  calling  "  Jessie "  outside^ 
She's  actually  gone  out.  I  suppose  I  must  open  the  door 
myself.  \Bell  again. 

I'm  coming !     {EXIT,  l.  c.) 

Returns  immediately,  followed  by  a  one-armed  veteran  Postman 
with  a  bag.     He  is  dripping  wet  —  rubber  cape,  etc. 

Postman,  (l.).  Well,  young  lady,  you  let  me  ring  long 
enough. 

Flos.     I  don't  know  where  our  girl  has  gone. 

PosTM.  Letter  for  Hollyhock  —  Paul.  {Hands  it.)  Noth- 
ing else. 

Flos.  You  are  very  wet.  Wouldn't  you  like  to  go  down 
to  the  fire  ? 

PosTM.  {in  doorway).  Thank  you,  young  lady.  I  haven't 
time.  But  I  am  dripping  like  a  sponge.  There's  two  cents 
due  on  the  letter.     It's  short  one  stamp. 

\_Lightning  and  rain. 

Flos.  I'll  get  it  for  you.  {Goes  to  r.  u.  e.)  Paul! 
{Knocks)     Paul ! 

PosTM.     What  weather  !     (  Wrings  his  hat.) 

Flos,  {opens  door  and  looks  in  r).  Nobody  there.  {Rec- 
ollecting.) Oh  —  he's  with  papa.  {Crosses  and  opens  door 
L.)  Not  there,  either.  {Exit -l.,  calling.)  Papa  —  Paul! 
{Re-enters,  showing  some  alarm.)  Where  are  they  all? 
{Runs  down  to  r.  i  e.)  Mamma!  {Exit,  calling  " Ma-rnxna. 
—  Dora ; "  re-enters,  more  alarmed.)  Mamma  !  Where  are 
you  ?  Nobody  here  ?  Good  heavens,  there's  nobody  at 
home  !     I'm  alone  in  the  house  1 


Or,  Castings  the  Boomerang:*  79 

PosTM.  {smiles — in  doorway).  Well,  no  matter.  I'll  col- 
lect it  next  time.     I  must  be  off.     {Goi?ig.) 

Flos,  {pulling  him  back).  Oh,  you  mustn't  go.  I  can't 
be  left  here  all  alone. 

PosTM.     But,  young  lady  — 

Flos,  (bringing  him  down  —  terrified).  Pleasej —  please 
don't  desert  me.  I'll  die  of  fright.  I'm  all  alone  in  the 
house. 

PosTM.  {soothingly).  But  it's  not  so  bad,  not  so  bad. 
It's  true  something  did  happen  in  this  house  once. 

[Flos  screams  and  hides  her  face  in  his  cape. 
There  was  a  man  found  under  the  bed,  I  think. 

Flos,  {screams  and  clings  to  him).  Oh,  oh,  oh!  You 
must  stay.     I  won't  let  you  go. 

PosTM.  {gently  releases  himself).  You've  got  your  hands 
all  wet.  I'll  dry  them  in  my  handkerchief.  {Does  so.)  I'm 
really  very  sorry  for  you,  but  I  can't  stay,  you  see.  I'm 
only  a  postman,  and  I  have  to  get  through  my  round. 

Flos.  But  what  shall  I  do  ?  I  can't  stay  in  this  house, 
and  I  can't  run  out  in  the  street  alone. 

PbsTM.     Isn't  there  anyone  you  can  call  in  ? 

Flos.     Not  a  soul.     {Crossing  r.) 

PosTM.     None  of  the  neighbors  ? 

Flos,  {crosses  to  l.)  Neighbors  ?  {Sudden  thought ;  ru?is 
to  window  joyfully^  Yes,  he's  there.  He  would  come  — 
I  know  he  would.  {Eagerly  to  Postman.)  He  lives  across 
the  way.     He'd  come  if  I'd  ask  him. 

PosTM.  {going  up).     I'll  go  and  tell  him. 

Flos.  {On  his  r.,  catching  him  by  the  cape).  Oh,  oh,  oh  ! 
{Shuddering.)  Don't  leave  me  —  don't  leave  me  !  We'll 
bring  him  over.  Help  me  to  light  all  those  candles.  No, 
I'll  light  them  in  front  of  the  window.  Why  didn't  I  think 
of  him  at  first ! 

\_Talks  through  bus.  of  lighting  all  the  candelabra  and 
handing  them  to  Postman  to  place  in   window. 


80  Seven  -Twenty  -  Eight ; 

She  lights  the  first  and  gives  it  to  him,  telling  him 

to  light  the  others,  and  during  her  speech  gives  time 

for  him  to  do  so.     He  lights  those  on  mantel.     She 

brings  the  one  she  lights  from  c.  of  l.  table,  then 

meets  Postman  coming  down  with  another,  which 

he  gives  to  her,  and  gets  the  other  off  the  mantel. 

He's  so  good  —  so  honest  —  so  noble-hearted.    You  know 

he's  a  relation  of  ours  —  the  gentleman  across  the  way. 

PosTM.  {bringing  down  candelabrum).     Yes,  miss. 

Flos.  Now  I'll  raise  the  shade.  So.  He  must  notice 
this.  He'll  wonder  what  I  do  it  for.  {Crosses  to  l.)  Now, 
you  stand  right  here.  {Places  him  in  front  of  window^  And 
keep  beckoning.  So.  {Shows  him.)  You  see  ?  So.  Take 
something  in  your  hand  —  something  white  —  a  large  paper. 
{Sees  play-bill  on  divan.)  This  will  do  —  what  is  it  ?  {Looks.) 
Oh,  this  will  be  splendid.  "  Come  Here."  "  Leah,,  the 
Forsaken  "  —  that'll  bring  him.  {Folds  it  so  as  to  show  the 
words  "Forsaken.  Come  Here.")  Now,  hold  it  up  so. 
{She  holds  it  on  the  man's  breast,  standing  behind  him^  and  he 
beckons  for  Corliss  to  come  over.) 

PosTM.     There's  some  one  at  the  window. 

Flos,  {eagerly).  Where  ?  {Looks.)  It's  he.  He  looks 
out.  He  throws  up  his  window-  He  nods.  He  waves  his 
hand.  {Laughs  in  glee  and  claps  her  hands  almost  hysteric- 
ally^ He's  coming !  He's  coming !  {Crossing  l.)  Now 
we  can  put  out  all  the  lights.  (  When  lights  are  out  all  but 
one.)     I'm  so  glad  ! 

PosTM.  {puts  bill  on  divan).     Now  I  may  go  — 

Flos.     Oh,  yes.     I'm  not  at  all  afraid,  now. 

PosTM.     —  and  attend  to  Uncle  Sam's  business. 

Flos,  {dips  down  in  her  pocket).  There,  that's  for  you. 
And  with  all  my  thanks,  besides. 

[jR£AL>  V  Corliss,  with  hat  and  overcoat,  to  enter  l.  c. 

PosTM.  Thank  you,  miss.  I'm  a  father,  too,  and  got 
gals  of  my  own.     Nothing  but  gals.     Some  folks  they  say, 


Or^  Casting  the  Boomerang,  Si 

"  oh,  for  a  boy ; "  but,  for  me,  I  say  nothing  goes  to  a  man's 
heart  like  a  daughter  —  a  true,  good  daughter.  Good-bye, 
miss,  good-bye.     I'll  let  the  gentleman  in. 

Flos,  {suddenly).  Don't  say  anything  to  him.  I  mean, 
don't  tell  him  anything. 

PosTM.  {nods  and  smiles^.     All  right.     I  won't. 

\Bell  heard. 
There  he  is.     Good-bye,  miss,  good-bye.     {EXIT,  l.  c.) 

[Music. 

Flos,  {realizing  her  situation).  But  what  shall  /tell  him  ? 
I  can't  say  that  I  was  scared,  like  a  baby.  But  I  must  say 
something.  What  will  he  think  ?  What  have  I  done  ?  It's 
awful  to  be  alone  with  him  —  and  so  late  at  night. 

Corliss  {heard  outside  in  a  cheery  tone).  Thank  you. 
Very  good.     I'll  go  up. 

Flos,  {listens).  He's  coming  !  My  heart's  in  my  mouth. 
{Looks  around  helplessly.)  What  shall  I  do  1  {Looks  at  door 
R.  I  E.)  Ah !  That's  it.  {Runs  to  door  and  opens  it  about 
afoot.     She  holds  her  hand  on  the  knob^ 

ENTER  Corliss,  l.  c.     Throws  his  overcoat  on  chair  and 
places  his  hat  on  it — then  comes  down. 

Corliss.  Did  I  understand  rightly,  Miss  Florence — you 
called  me  ? 

Flos,  (r.,  whispers).  Sh !  Not  so  loud.  Mamma  1  {In- 
dicates room  R.) 

Cor.  {not  comprehending).     I  beg  pardon. 

Flos,  {whispers).  In  there  !  She's  lying  down  on  the 
lounge.     She's  had  such  an  awful  attack  of  —  something. 

Cor.  {softly).     I'm  very  sorry. 

Flos,  {speaks  off  to  an  imaginary  Mamma).  Mamma! 
Mr.  Corliss  is  here  now.  {Comes  forward,  leaving  the  door 
open.)  You  must  forgive  me  for  calling  you  over,  but  I 
really  didn't  know  what  else  to  do.  We  were  alone  —  and 
all  of  a  sudden  mamma  was  taken.     I  sent  the  girl  to  the 


92  Seven  -Twenty  -  Eight ; 

drug  store  —  but  if  she  gets  worse,  some  one  must  go  for  a 
doctor.  Mamma  thought  you'd  be  angry  at  being  sent 
for  — 

,CoR.  (goes  quickly  towards  door  r.).  I'm  entirely  at  your 
servfce,  my  dear  mad —    \¥\.0?&y  prevents  him  going  further. 

Flos.  And  I  thought  you  might  be  angry,  too  —  after 
the  way  we  parted  this  evening. 

Cor.  {offers  his  hand).     Let  us  forget  it. 

Flos,  {takes  hand  warmly).  Agreed.  {Suddenly  with- 
draws^   Mamma  and  I  thank  you  ever  so  much  for  coming. 

Cor.  It's  not  worth  mentioning.  {Again  towards  door.) 
I  only  regret,  my  dear  madam,  the  occasion  is  such  a  sad 
one. 

Flos,  {draws  him  away  gently  by  the  arm).  Sh!  Don't 
speak  so  loudly.  She  has  a  dreadful  headache.  Here's  the 
cracked  ice  !     {Up  to  table  c.) 

[Corliss  gets  round  to  l.  of  table. 
I  got  it  for  her.  I'm  going  to  make  her  a  fresh  bandage. 
{Stands  r.  of  table  ;  he  l.)  [They  speak  in  subdued  tones. 

Cor.     Can't  I  help  you  ?     I  know  how  to  nurse  people. 

Flos.     How  did  you  learn  ? 

Cor.  On  the  plains.  You  didn't  know  I'd  been  in  the 
army  ? 

Flos.     Were  you  ?  \They  work  at  ice  and  bandages. 

Cor.  Yes.  I'm  an  old  West  Pointer.  Had  my  little 
service  with  the  redskins. 

Flos.     Did  you  fight  the  Indians  ? 

Cor.     a  little. 

Flos.  I  saw  from  the  very  first  that  you  had  a  military 
air.    You  are  so  bold. 

Cor.     No.     I'm  a  great  coward. 

Flos.     What  —  really? 

Cor.  Judge  for  yourself.  I  wanted  to  win  a  girl's  heart. 
I  found  it  occupied,  and  I  retreated  without  striking  a  blow. 

Flos,  {innocently).     You  mean  she  loved  another  "i 


Or^  Castingf  the  Boomerang:*  83 

Cor.  No.  The  enemy  in  possession  was  a  little  con- 
temptible imp  we  call  a  whim  — a  caprice  —  an  obstinate 
coquetry  —  that  I  ought  to  have  charged  and  routed  at  the 
first. 

Flos,  (confused^.     You  believe  her  as  bad  as  that  ? 

Cor.  That's  as  bad  as  a  good,  pure,  lovable  girl  can  be. 
Her  heart  should  be  as  open  as  the  day.  I  thought  to  find 
hers  so. 

Flos,  (shy,  yet  curious).     Did  you  love  her  ? 

Cor.  {warmly  but  gently).     I  love  her  yet. 

Flos.    Was  she  handsome  ? 

Cor.  {warmer,  yet  subdued).  How  can  I  describe  her? 
Her  eyes  looked  into  my  very  soul,  and  its  chords  were 
stirred  by  the  voice  from  her  laughing  mouth  as  the  harp  is 
stirred  by  the  touch  of  the  player.  You  see  —  I  tremble 
even  as  I  think  of  her. 

Flos,  {rises,  and  softly).     Was  she  good  ? 

Cor.  {roguishly).  Between  you  and  me,  she  was  a  little 
good-for-nothing  flirt  —  but  a  charming  little  flirt  for  all  that. 

Flos,  {one  step  away).     And  it's  all  over — forever.? 

Cor.  It  is  over.  She  fluttered  away  from  me  like  a  but- 
terfly—  or  like  a  thoughtless  child  sporting  in  a  meadow. 
But  if  I  could  catch  her  —  could  hold  her  for  one  moment 
pressed  to  my  heart — her  eyes  riveted  on  mine  —  I  could 
whisper  such  eloquence  in  her  ear  that  her  heart  should 
answer  with  an  echo  of  my  love.  {Tries  to  take  her  in  his 
arms.) 

Flos,  {evading  him,  pretends  to  listen).     Sh  !     Mamma ! 

Cor.     Did  she  speak? 

Flos,  {confused).  I  think  she  called  me.  I'll  take  the 
ice  in  to  her.  {Takes  napkin  with  ice  and  pretends  to  go  in 
room  R.,  but  stands  behind  door  so  audience  can  see  her.) 

Cor.  {kisses  his  hand  after  her).  Oh,  you  delicious  little 
—  I  think  I  need  some  ice  myself.  {Ties  a  bandage  around 
his  head.) 


84  Seven  -Twenty  -  Eight  j        ^ 

Flos,  {behind  the  door,  holding  the  bandage  to  her  head). 
I'm  all  in  a  glow.  How  refreshing  this  is!  If  my  heart 
didn't  beat  so!     I'm  actually  afraid  he'll  hear  it  thump. 

Cor.  (applies  ice  to  his  pulses).  It  must  be  the  lights  that 
make  it  so  hot.     (Blows  out  the  remaining  candelabra.) 

[Stage  half  dark. 

Flos,  (while  he  is  blowing  out  the  lights).  He  loves  me  ! 
He  really  loves  me  !  I  could  cry  out  with  happiness.  But 
he  mustn't  make  love  to  me  now.  Not  to-night.  (Suddenly 
alarmed.)  It's  getting  dark.  What  has  become  of  the 
lights  ?     (Comes  out.)     What  are  you  doing,  Mr.  Corliss  ? 

Cor.  (pulling  his  bandage  off,  con/used).  I  — I  —  was 
merely  putting  out  some  of  the  lights  —  I  thought  they 
made  it  too  —  too  — warm  for  your  mother. 

Flos,  (goes  to  chandelier  and  pulls  cord.  It  lights  up).  Oh, 
no.  Mamma  is  much  better.  (  With  intention.)  We  needn't 
speak  so  low  any  more. 

Cor.     But  it  was  so  pleasant. 

Flos.  No,  no.  Mamma  asks  as  a  particular  favor  that 
you  speak  quite  loudly. 

Cor.  It's  the  worst  thing  in  the  world  for  a  head- 
ache. 

Flos,  (loudly).  She  likes  to  hear  us  talk.  It  entertains 
her.     (Takes  up  play-bill.)     Did  you  ever  see  these  plays .? 

Cor.  (angrily).     No  —  yes  —  of  course. 

Flos.     Are  they  good  ? 

Cor.  (struck  with  an  idea).  Have  you  never  seen  them  ? 
(Takes  bill  from  her^ 

Flos.     Never. 

Cor.     Oh,  the  love-scenes  are  magnificent. 

Flos.     Do  tell  me  about  them. 

Cor.  Leah  stands  there  —  as  you  do  —  her  lover  ap- 
proaches (steps  towards  her)  to  urge  his  passion  in  glowing 
words.  [Flossy  turns  away. 

She  listens  to  him  with  averted  head  and  downcast  eyes. 


Or,  Gustingf  tibie  Boomerangf*  85 

{Withfire^     Oh,  look  at  me — give  me  one  glance  to  bid 
me  hope  —  to  say  you  love  me  ! 

Flos,  {starting  up^  and  in  fear).     Why,  Mr.  Corliss ! 

{READ  Y  Mrs.  Bargiss  arid  Mrs.  Hollyhock,  to 
enter  l.  c. 

Cor.  {recollecting  himself,  crosses  to  r.  and  speaks  off). 
That's  in  the  play.  Oh,  I  recollect  every  word  of  it.  {To 
Flossy.)  He  sees  her  blush —  then  tremble  —  then,  unable 
longer  to  restrain  himself,  he  takes  her  hand.  {He  seizes 
Flossy's  hand?)  He  presses  it  to  his  lips.  {Does  so.)  It's 
the  play,  you  know.  {Tenderly.)  Then,  with  gentle  yet 
passionate  words,  he  beseeches  her  to  answer  and  tell  him 
that  she  loves  him. 

\READ  Y  Bargiss,  Hollyhock,  and  Tamborini, 
to  enter  l.  c. 

Flos,  {turns  her  head  to  him  and  gives  him  her  other  hand 
also).     There ! 

Cor.  {clasps  her  in  his  arms).     My  darling — my  own ! 

Flos.     Is  that  in  the  play,  too  1 

Cor.     Yes  —  that's  the  best  of  it. 

Flos,  {breaks  away  and  runs  to  door  l.  c).  Heavens,  I 
heard  the  door  close.  Some  one  is  coming.  {Throws  a  kiss 
to  Corliss,  and  at  door,  r.  c.)  I  can't  stay.  Good-bye! 
Good-bye ! 

Cor.  {tries  to  call  her  back).  Florence !  {Comes  down, 
juSilant.)  She's  mine!  {Stops  as  he  glances  at  door  r.,  and 
remembers  Mamma.)  Heavens,  her  mother  has  heard  every- 
thing !  {In  a  nervous  whisper  to  audience.)  Well  —  all  I've 
got  to  do  is  to  go  right  on.  Why  not  get  her  consent  at 
once  ?  {Buttons  up  his  coat  resolutely  and  goes  to  half  open 
door;  bows  and  speaks  off.)  Madam  —  as  you  have  heard 
all  —  my  avowal  to  your  daughter  —  the  declaration  of  a 
passion  which  knows  no  bounds  — 

\^ffere  Mrs.  Bargiss  and  Mrs.  Hollyhock  appear 
L.  c,  and  stand  in  doorway. 


&6  Seven -Twenty -Eigfht; 

—  and  whicn  dates  from  the  moment  I  first  beheld  her 
picture.  I  have  no  excuse  to  make  for  approaching  you  at 
this  moment  with  the  favor  I  have  now  to  ask  — 

\_R  E AD  Y  curtain. 
Mrs.  Bargiss.     What's  that  ?     {Makes  a  step  fonvard.) 
Cor.     Eh?     {Turns ;  sees  lA^s.  'Bxkgiss.)     Byjove  — my 
boomerang. 

\^Darts  up  c.  and  is  met  by  the  apparition^  l.  Q.,  of 
Bargiss  and  Hollyhock,  in  costume^  urged  in  by 
Tamborinl 
Bargiss.     Boomerang,  eh  ?     Look  at  this ! 

\_RING  curtain, 

TABLEAU   AND   CURTAIN. 


Or,  Casting  tixe  Boomerang.  S7 


ACT  IV. 
SCENE.  —  Same  as  in  Act.  III. 

TIME.  —  Morning.  ENTER  Jessie,  l.  c,  with  card  on 
salver  and  humming  the  "  lolanthe  "  Galop.  Trips  for- 
ward with  an  imaginary  partner.  READY  to  enter, 
Mrs.  Bargiss,  r.  i  d.  ;  Tamborini,  with  bouquet,  l.  c. 

Jessie.  Well,  I  got  off  this  time  all  right.  Miss  Florence 
promised  not  to  tell  that  I  stole  off  and  left  her  all  alone. 
She  says  she  wasn't  a  bit  frightened  —  she  had  her  thoughts 
to  keep  her  company.  I'd  rather  have  one  of  those  private 
coachmen  to  keep  me  company.  {Dances  and  hums  the  galop 
again  until  she  reaches  Mrs.  Bargiss's  door,  R.,  and  knocks^ 
Here's  Signor  Tamborini's  card,  ma'am.     He's  waiting. 

ENTER  Mrs.  Bargiss,  r.  i  d.,  severe  but  calm.     She  takes 

the  card. 

Mrs.  Bargiss.     Show  Signor  Tamborini  up. 

Jes.     Yes'm. 

Mrs.  B.     Where  is  Mr.  Bargiss  ?. 

Jes.     In  his  study  ma'am,  with  Mr.  Hollyhock. 

Mrs.  B.     Very  good.     You  can  go. 

[Jessie  starts  o_ffin  a  galop. 
Jessie ! 

[Jessie  subsides  and  EXIT,  l.  c. 
I  believe  I  have  the  requisite  firmness  to  dispose  of  those 
gentlemen  this  morning.  (^Sits  at  desk  l.  to  write.)  For 
one  of  them,  at  least,  the  time  has  come. 

ENTER  Tamborini,  l.  c,  in  evening  dress  as  usual,  carry- 
ing a  superb  bouquet. 


S8  Seven  -Twenty  -  Eight ; 

Tamborini.     Signora ! 

Mrs.  B.  (c).  You  are  determined  to  lose  no  time,  Sig. 
nor  Tamborini. 

Tam.  (r.).  As  soon  as  I  leave  you  last  night,  I  tele> 
graph  to  his  lordship  that  the  lady  in  the  picture  is  found, 
and  that  I  learn  her  name  to-day.  His  lordship  he  tele, 
graph  back  instanter.      Voila.     {Hands  despatch^ 

Mrs.  B.  {crosses  to  r.,  reading).  "  Place  at  the  feet  of  tha 
Signora  the  loveliest  of  bouquets,  and  my  profuse  acknowk 
edgments." 

Tam.  {handing  bouquet).  Signora,  with  the  profuse  ac- 
knowledgments of  my  Lord  Lawntennis. 

Mrs.  B.  {takes  bouquet;  reads  on).  "When  you  have 
learned  the  name  of  the  fair  original,  telegraph  me  at  once, 
that  I  may  communicate  directly  with  her."  {Gives  back 
telegram  and  smells  bouquet.)  His  lordship  is  exceedingly 
polite. 

Tam.  {produces  note-book).  And  now,  madame — the  name 
and  address  of  the  young  lady.  I  telegraph  in  your  own 
words.        l^READ  Y  Bargiss  and  Hollyhock,  to  enttr  l.  d. 

Mrs.  B.  Prepare  yourself  for  a  surprise,  Sigrior.  The 
young  lady  you  are  seeking  is  my  daughter  Florence. 

Tam.  {surprised).  Your  daughter  ?  Da  Vera !  Ma  dio 
mio  I  The  Signorina  Fiorenza  has  the  hair  of  gold,  while 
the  young  lady  of  the  picture  is  black  on  the  top.    {Gesture^ 

Mrs.  B.  That  is  easily  explained.  The  artist  took  the 
liberty  of  changing  her  hair. 

Tam.  {suspiciously).  Wait  one  moment.  {Cunningly^ 
In  the  picture  there  is  one  large,  immense,  big  dog.  {Ges 
ture^ 

Mrs.  B.  Our  mastiff,  Max.  You  can  see  him  at  out 
place  in  the  country  whenever  you  please. 

Tam.  {delighted,  and  writing).  Then  it  is  all  right.  Ah, 
Signora,  my  heart  is  breaking  out  with  joy.  I  telegraph  at 
once.    His  lordship  will  break  out  with  joy,  too.    {Pantomime 


Or^  Casting  the  Boomerang.  89 

of  suitor  in  ecstasy  —  struck  by  picture  and  asking  hand^  All 
is  well  —  I  fly' —  I  telegraph.  (Bows  himself  half  up  the 
stage.)  Signora,  Illustrissima  I  Signora  —  Ornamentissima  I 
{EXIT,  L.  c.) 

Mrs.  B.  {rising).  That  affair  is  properly  inaugurated. 
I'll  see  that  it  is  properly  terminated.  I'll  have  my  way  this 
time.     {Goes  up  Vi.) 

ENTER  Bargiss  and  Hollyhock,  l.  d. 

Hollyhock  {peeping  in).  The  coast  is  clear.  {Coming 
forward.) 

Bargiss  {peeping  in).     Are  you  sure  ?     {Coming  forward.) 

HoL.  {turns,  and  sees  Mrs.  Bargiss,  who  turns  and  glares 
atboth).     I  — I  —  I  — 

Bar.  Oh,  Lord  I  {Stands  hiding  behind  Hollyhock  like 
a  schoolboy^ 

[Mrs.  Bargiss  stands  a  moment  measuring  them  with 
her  glance  ;  then  sails  down  r. 

Bar.  {nudging  Hollyhock).    Say  something.    Go  for  her. 

Hol.  {advancing  timidly,  and  in  a  plaintive  voice).  Mam- 
ma, mamma! 

Mrs.  B.  {turning).     What  is  your  business  with  me,  sir  ? 

Hol.     I  have  a  particular  favor  to  ask,  mamma. 

Bar.  {timidly).     So  have  I,  Hypatia. 

Mrs.  B.  {crosses  to  Bargiss).  You  and  I  will  have  an 
understanding,  by  and  by.  {To  Hollyhock.)  What  do  you 
wish,  sir? 

Hol.  (r.).  I  would  like  to  see  my  wife,  if  it's  not  incon- 
venient. , 

Mrs.  B.  (c).     Indeed!     Pray,  do  you  think  it  necessary 
.  to  ask  my  permission  to  speak  with  your  wife  ? 

Hol.     Yes,  mamma. 

Mrs.  B.  Undeceive  yourself,  sir.  I  will  announce  your 
presence  to  my  daughter  myself.  {Goes  to  door  up  stage,  r., 
and  knocks^ 


90  Seven  -Twenty  -  Eight ; 

Bar.  Now,  my  darling !  {Taps  her  on  the  shoulder.  She 
looks  at  him  freezingly.  He  starts  away  alarmed^  staggers 
over  to  desk  l,,  and  buries  his  face  in  the  papers^ 

Mrs.  B.   {knocking  again.     Calls  icily).     Dora ! 

Mrs.  H.  {partly  opening  door,  r.  3  e.).     What,  mamma. 

Mrs.  B.  The  person  whom  your  father  selected  for  your 
husband  wishes  to  see  you. 

[Mrs.   Hollyhock  slams  the  door  and  a  bolt  is 
heard  to  shoot. 
You  hear  that  ? 

HoL.  (c).     What  was  it  ? 

Mrs.  B.  My  daughter  has  bolted  her  door  on  the  inside. 
That  is  your  answer. 

{READ  V  Mrs.  Hollyhock,  to  enter  r.  3  e. 

HoL.  {crosses  to  R. ;  goes  resolutely  to  door).  With  your 
permission,  I  will  see  about  that. 

Mrs.  B.  You  will  find  she  has  a  strength  of  character 
inherited  from  her  mother  {a  piercing  glance  at  Bargiss,  who 
groans  and  writhes  in  his  chair),  impervious  to  persuasion. 

Bar.     Oh  1 

HoL.   {coolly).     What  is  she  going  to  do  ? 

Mrs.  B.  Remain  a  prisoner  while  she  is  compelled  to 
stay  under  the  same  roof  with  you. 

HoL.  {with  mock  emotion).     Then  all  is  over? 

Mrs.  B.  {going  up  c).     All. 

Bar.  {beseechingly).     Hypatia ! 

Mrs.  B.  {quickly).     What,  sir  ? 

Bar.  {groans).  Nothing !  {Buries  his  face  in  his  hands  at 
desk  L.) 

Mrs.  B.     All  that  is  over.     {EXIT,  l.  c.) 

HoL.  {who  has  stood  crushed  until  she  is  out  of  hearing, 
returns  quickly  to  the  door  and  calls).  Dora  !  {Knocks.) 
Dora,  it  is  I  —  she's  gone. 

[Mrs.  Hollyhock  opens  the  door  and  peeps  out,  smiling. 

Mrs.  Hollyhock.     Are  you  sure  ? 


Ot,  Castingf  the  Boomerang,  9t 

HoL.    Yes. 

Mrs.  H.  {bounding  into  his  arms).     Dear  Paul  1 

HoL.     My  sweet,  good  wife  ! 

Bar.  (at  desk,  astonished).  How  did  you  manage  that? 
I  wish  you'd  tell  me  the  way. 

HoL.  (c).  We  made  it  up  last  night.  Didn't  we,  darling  ? 
{Kisses  her.)  I  wouldn't  let  her  go  to  sleep  with  a  single 
suspicion  or  misgiving. 

Bar.  (l.,  advancing).  My  wife  wouldn't  let  me  put  in  a 
word.     I  never  passed  such  a  Polar  night. 

Mrs.  H.  (to  Bargiss).  Mamma  mustn't  know  we  are 
reconciled,  just  yet.  (^Crosses  to  c.)  She  worked  on  me  so, 
that  I  made  a  solemn  promise  to  despise  Paul. 

[READ  Y  Mrs.  Bargiss,  with  letter,  to  enter  l.  c. 

HoL.  But  I  wouldn't  be  despised,  would  I  ?  (Kisses 
her.) 

Bar.  Don't  you  know  she  may  come  back  at  any  mo- 
ment ? 

Mrs.  H.     Then  you  must  watch  out  for  us. 

Bar.  What  will  they  do  with  me  next  ?  What  a  draught 
there  is  in  this  place !  (Goes  up,  wraps  a  shawl  over  his 
head  and  shoulders,  and  sits  at  door,  L.  c,  the  picture  of 
misery^ 

HoL.  (embracing  her).     Now  we  are  safe. 

Mrs.  H.     You  act  just  as  if  nothing  had  happened 

HoL.     Nothing  particular   has  happened.     It  was   only 
one  folly.     That  young  man  is  a  wizard.     My  time  came  to_ 
make  a  fool  of  myself,  and  I  did  it.     I  shied  my  little  boom- 
erang, and  it  came  back  on  me. 

Mrs.  H.     And  you  will  never  again  ? 

HoL.     Never  again.     (Kisses  her.) 

Bar.  (suddenly).     She's  coming. 

[Hollyhock  and  Mrs.  Hollyhock  separate.  He 
runs  to  door  l.  She  to  door  r.  They  conceal 
themselves. 


^  Seven -Twenty -Eigfht  J 

HoL.  i^just  over  the  threshold).     I  say,  Dora. 

Mrs.  H.  (the  same).     Yes,  Paul. 

Bar.     Here  she  is.  \^They  both  close  their  doors. 

Mrs.  Bargiss  sails  in,  l.  c,  and  passes  Bargiss,  who  makes  a 
mute  appeal.  She  goes  to  the  desk  and  puts  a  letter  which 
she  has  brought  into  an  envelope,  and  addresses  it.  Bar- 
giss comes  down  to  her  after  some  hesitatioh. 

Bar.    My  darling  1 

Mrs.  Bargiss  {at  desky  not  looking  at  him).  I  wish  to  give 
you  notice  that  after  to-day  you  must  take  your  meals  at  a 
hotel. 

Bar.    But,  Hypatia  — 

Mrs.  B.     I  leave  for  home,  with  my  children,  this  evening. 

Bar.    What's  to  become'  of  me  ? 

Mrs.  B.  You  will  be  free  to  pursue  your  literary  studies 
and  collect  your  materials  wherever  and  whenever  you 
please.  (Crosses  to  R.)  My  duty  is  to  spare  my  children 
the  disgrace  of  seeing  their  father  degrade  himself  and 
them. 

Bar.     Now  what  have  I  done  ? 

Mrs.  B.  (sobbing).  And  to  think  this  should  happen  on 
the  very  day  I  had  promised  myself  so  much  happiness  i 
When  I  had  such  a  surprise  in  store  for  you ! 

Bar.     Don't,  Hypatia  !     You  make  me  crawl. 

Mrs.  B.  (^producing  the  book  of  sonnets).  Here,  take  it. 
My  pleasure  is  spoiled,  anyway. 

Bar.  (examining  cover  of  book).     What  is  this? 

[Mrs.  Bargiss  turns  away,  sobbing  and  wiping  her 
eyes.  Hollyhock  opens  his  door  and  takes  a  step 
or  two  out.  but  sees  Mrs.  Bargiss  and  retreats.  ' ' 

Hollyhock.    O  Lord  !  , , 

Bar.  (^puts  on    spectacles  and  reads).      "  Sonnets    to    a 

Fiancee,  by  Launcelot  Bargiss."    (Looks  at  her.)     Sonnets  ? 

What  sonnets  ? 


Or^  Gisting  the  Boomo'ang'*  93 

Mrs.  B.  {occasional  sois).  They  are  poems  you  sent  me 
when  we  were  engaged. 

Bar.  (l.).  Heavens!  You  had  those  things  printed 
under  my  name  ? 

{READ  Y  Corliss,  with  hat,  to  enter  l.  c. 

Mrs.  B.  Yes.  In  secret,  to  give  you  a  surprise.  They 
are  now  for  sale  all  over  the  city. 

Bar.  {reels  to  chair,  l.).    Woman  1    It's  all  over  ;  I  am  lost. 

Mrs.  B.  {startled,  c).    Why  so  ?    What  is  the  matter  ? 

Bar.     Those  things  are  not  mine. 

Mrs.  B.    Not  yours  ? 

Bar.  They  were  selections  from  Shakespeare,  Jonson, 
Tennyson,  Byron,  Scott,  everybody. 

Mrs.  B.    Then  you  deceived  me  even  at  that  happy  period 

Bar.  Deceived  you?  Confound  it,  don't  everybody 
quote  poetry  when  they're  in  love.  Who'd  ever  dream  that 
you'd  send  that  infernal  collection  to  a  printer,  and  put  my 
name  to  it.     Now  I  am  done  for. 

Mrs.  B.     Launcelot !     I  meant  it  for  the  best. 

Bar.  Oh,  you've  done  it  for  the  worst.  I  shall  be  the 
laughing-stock  of  the  city.  {Jumps  up.)  Where's  my  coat 
and  hat  ? 

Mrs.  B.     Where  are  you  going  ? 

Bar.  To  the  bookstores,  to  the  printer's,  to  the  news- 
stands, to  the  type-founders,  to  stop  them. 

\_She  helps  him  on  with  hat  and  coat  as 

Corliss  ENTERS,  l.  c. 

Corliss.  Ah!  there  you  are.  I'm  most  fortunate  —  if  I 
may  have  the  pleasure  of  a  few  minutes  — 

Bar.  Excuse  me.  I'm  busy !  Talk  to  my  wife.  Where 
can  I  get  a  cab  ? 

Cor.     But  — 

Bar.  Can't  attend  to  an)rthing  now.  I'm  boomeranged. 
{EXIT,  L.  c.) 


94  Seven  -Twenty  -  Eight ; 

[Mrs.  Bargiss  totters  down  and  sinks  into  a  chair. 
Hollyhock  makes  a  few  steps  out  as  before.  Re- 
treats again. 

Mrs.  B.  (l.).     Oh,  if  he's  only  in  time  ' 

\_READ  Y  Flossy,  to  enter  r.  i  d. 

Cor.  (observing  all  this  with  a  puzzled  air,  now  approaches 
Mrs.  Bargiss,  hat  in  hand,  somewhat  embarrassed^.  My  dear 
madam,  I  owe  you  an  apology  for  the  unceremonious  and 
abrupt  manner  in  which  1  took  my  departure  last  night. 

Mrs.  B.  (who  has  recovered,  rises  from  desk).  I  think  we 
had  better  not  refer  to  last  night's  performances. 

[Corliss  hides  his  head  in  his  hat. 
Still,  as  I  presume  you  have  come  here  to  repeat  your  pro- 
posal  for  my  daughter  in  a  respectable  manner,  you  are 
entitled  to  a  serious  answer.  That  answer  is  —  No  1  Under 
no  circumstances  —  No  1 

Cor.  (quickly).    Madam  I 

Mrs.  B.  Enough,  sir.  {Crosses  to  r.)  I  have  other  views 
for  Florence,  and  I  shall  not  permit  them  to  be  interfered 
with  by  any  person. 

Cor.  Very  well,  madam.  Very  well.  But  I  have  rea- 
sons for  not  relinquishing  my  hopes. 

Mrs.  B.  Indeed  !  I  suppose  you  think  my  daughter  may 
have  ideas  on  the  subject  different  from  mine.  I'll  con- 
vince you  of  the  contrary  very  soon.  {Goes  to  door,  r.  h,, 
and  calls.)     Florence,  step  here  a  moment. 

Cor.  (aside,  l.).     That's  all  I  want. 

ENTER  Flossy,  r.  i  d. 

Flossy.  Here  I  am,  mamma.  (Starts  on  seeing  Corliss.) 
You  didn't  tell  me  — 

Mrs.  B.  My  dear,  this  gentleman  has  proposed  for  youi 
hand. 

Flos,  (lowering  her  eyes).     Indeed  1 


Of,  Casting  the  Boomerang*  95 

Mrs.  B.  (c).  I  have  informed  him  that  I  have  other 
plans  regarding  you. 

[Flossy  makes  a  gesture  of  entreaty,  aside. 
And  I  am  resolved  to  select  my  second  son-in-law  myself. 
I  believe  I  informed  you  of  this  last  night,  and  you  acqui- 
esced.    Is  this  true  ? 

Flos,  {eyes  on  floor).     Yes,  mamma. 

[Hollyhock  and  Mrs.  Hollyhock  steal  out  of 

their  respective  rooms  and  exchange  eager  signs  with 

each  other.     Mrs.  Hollyhock  points  warningly 

to  her  mother. 

Mrs.  B.     And  yet  Mr.  Corliss  thought  he  might  be  able 

to  test  your  filial  duty  in  a  personal  interview. 

Flos,  (^pretending  severity^.      I    will   never   do   anything 
mamma  does  not  approve  of,  Mr.  Corliss.     (Crosses  to  him.) 
Hollyhock  (eagerly,  across  to  his  wife).     I  must  tell  you 
something. 

[Mrs.  Bargiss  overhears  him,  and  turns  to  the  side 

he  is  on.     Mrs.  'Hoia^yhocyl  flies  back  to  her  room. 

Mrs.  B.     What  are  you  doing  here  ?     (^Goes  up  and  looks 

Hol.     I,  oh,  oh,  nothing.     {Goes  towards  his  room.) 
Flos,  (quickly  to  Corliss,  while  her  mother^ s  back  is  turned). 
I'm  only  pretending.     I'm  on  your  side.     {Crowding  him 
into  corner.) 

Cor.     My  angel ! 

Mrs.  B.  {turns  and  interrupts  them.  They  resjime  posi- 
tions). My  eldest  daughter,  Mr.  Corliss,  married  against  my 
advice.     Look  at  the  result. 

{The  moment  Mrs.   Bargiss  has  Jurned  down   the 

stage,  Mrs.  Hollyhock  and  Hollyhock  embrace, 

c,  and  kiss  at  the  end  of  Mrs.  Bargiss's  speech. 

She  does  not  look. 

Cor.  (c.  ;  turns,  back  to  audience;  looks  up  stage;  beholds 

the  embrace).     The  result  is  horrible  !     Horrible  1 


96  Seven  -Twenty  -  Eight ; 

Mrs.  B.  Is  it  not  ?  Here  are  two  married  people  sepa- 
rated, perhaps  forever.  Had  she  listened  —  had  she  taken 
my  advice  — 

[Mrs.  Hollyhock  is  struggling  to  get  away  from 
Hollyhock's  arms. 
Flos.     Don't  excite  yourself,  mamma.     I'm  going  to  be 
good.      {She  darts  to  window  and  looks  out^  snatching  a  rose 
from  vase,  l.) 

Mrs.  B.  You  are  my  only  comfort.  While  your  sister  — 
{Turns  slowly  up  stage.) 

[Hollyhock  and  Mrs.  Hollyhock  separate.    He 
walks  up  stage  dejectedly.     She  flings  herself  into  a 
chair  —  eying  him  scornfully. 
Cor.  {crosses  to  Flossy.     Kisses  her  hand).     Won't  you 
give  me  that  rose  "i 

Flos.  (l.).     I  can't.     Mamma  is  watching. 

\_READY'2tK^Gi's>s  and  Jessie,  with  basket  of  books, 
to  enter  l.  c. 
Cor.     Do,  now  quick. 

\She  is   about  to  give  it.      Mrs.    Bargiss   having 
reached  Mrs.    Hollyhock's   side,   Corliss  and 
Flossy  fly  apart. 
Mrs.  B.     I  will   not  blame  you,  Dora.     You  are  doing 
your  duty.     Come  to  my  heart,  my  poor,  deceived  child. 
{jPraws  her  to  her  side.)     Flossy!     {Tenderly.) 

[Flossy  goes  to  her  mother,  hiding  the  rose  in  her 

hand. 

This  is  a  sad  day  for  a  mother,  my  children.    We  have  only 

ourselves  to  lean  upon  and  look  up  to.     {She  is  c.  of  group.) 

[Flossy  gives  CoRLfts  the  rose.     He  kisses  her  hand. 

Hollyhock  kisses  Mrs.  Hollyhock's  hand  on 

the  other  side. 

I   {She  comes  down,  releasing  her  daughters   to   the  gentlemen, 

\  3ut'not  observing  the  fact.)     And  now,  gentlemen,  we  will  not 

detain  you  any  longer.     My  daughters  have  been  brought 


Or,  Casting  the  Boomerang^.  97 

up  to  obey  their  parents  —  or  to  speak  more  properly  at  the 
present  time  —  one  of  their  parents  —  and  that  one  —  (She 
turns  near  the  door.) 

\_The   groups   fly    apart    into     different    positions. 
Hollyhock  throws  himself  into  a  chair  up  stage, 
R.     Flossy  into  chair,  l.  c.     Mrs.  Hollyhock, 
R.  c.     Corliss  at  piano,  l. 
That  one  is  their  mother.     (EXIT,  r.  i  d.) 

\_All  resume  group. 
HoL.     Mamma  is  sublime. 
Mrs.  H.     For  shame,  Paul ! 

\_He  embraces  her  as  they  go  up. 
Flos,  (shaking  her  head  as  she  comes  forward  with  Cor- 
liss).    No.     Arguments    avail    nothing    for    the    present. 
Leave  it  to  me.     I'll  win  her  over  by  degrees. 

Cor.     I'm  sure  you  will.     (Hugging  her  in  rapture^    You 
darling !  [Mrs.  Bargiss  reappears  in  door. 

Mrs.  Bargiss.     Florence ! 

Flos.     Yes,  mamma.     (Sails   into  room  after  Mrs.  Bar- 
giss, and  kisses  her  hand  to  Corliss  as  she  gets  to  door.) 

[Mrs.    Hollyhock,    meanwhile,  has  flown  to  her 
room,  with  Hollyhock  before  her. 
Cor.     Victory !     Victory ! 

[  Goes  up  waving  his  hat,  and  meets 

Bargiss  who  ENTERS,  with  Jessie,  l.  c.     They  bring  in 

a  huge  clothes-basket  laden  with  books,  "  Sonnets  to  a 

Fiancee." 

Bargiss.     Set  it  down  here.    Now,  go  down  to  the  wagon 

and  bring  up  the  rest.     Put  'em  all  in  my  study. 

[EXIT  ] ESSIE,  L.  c. 

(Bargiss  takes  off  his  hat  and  overcoat ;  wipes  perspiration 
from  his  brow.)  Thank  heaven,  I  stopped  them  before  they 
left  the  binder's.  \^READ  Y  Gasleigh,  to  enter  l.  c. 

Cor.     What  have  you  been  buying  ? 

Bar.  (getting  c).      My   complete    works.      The   whole 


98  Seven  -Twenty  -  Eight ; 

edition.  {Takes  Corliss's  hand.)  My  young  friend,  your 
words  have  come  true.  I  have  made  a  fool  of  myself.  Not 
once,  but  half  a  dozen  times.  It's  just  as  you  said.  The 
boomerang  has  come  back  on  me. 

RE-EN2'ER  Mrs.  Bargiss,  r.  i  d. 

Mrs.  Bargiss  {anxiously).     Were  you  in  time  ? 

Bar.  Yes,  fortunately  they  hadn't  gone  out  yet.  {Crosses 
to  C.  ;  wipes  his  forehead^  I've  had  a  pleasant  afternoon  of 
it. 

Mrs.  B.   (r.,  soothing).     Then  there's  no  harm  done. 

Bar.  Not  much.  Though  I'm  done.  But  my  eyes  are 
open  at  last.     I'm  done  with  poetry. 

Mrs.  B.     But  your  society  novel  t 

Bar.     We'll  light  the  fire  with  it. 

Mrs.  B.  (r.).     And  your  other  works  ? 

Bar.     Rubbish. 

Mrs.  B.     And  your  play  ? 

Bar.  We'll  keep  that,  and  I'll  read  it  to  you  when  we 
get  back  to  the  country.      {Turns  away  to  l.  c.) 

ENTER  Gasleigh,  l.  c,  with  a  jubilant  hooray. 

Gasleigh.  Victoria  !  Victoria  !  My  friend,  let  me  em- 
brace you.  The  deed  is  done.  The  day  is  won.  My  dear 
madam,  I  bring  you  something  like  news. 

Bar.  (l.  c,  interrupts  him,  pointing  to  Corliss).  You  re- 
member what  our  young  friend  said  about  making  an  ass  of 
Due's  self  .-^ 

Gas.  {crosses  to  Corliss).  Our  young  boomerang  friend 
—  oh,  yes. 

Mrs.  B.     What's  the  news  ? 

Gas.  {crosses  to  Mrs.  Bargiss).  The  "  Sonnets  to  a 
Fiancee  "  have  met  with  a  gigantic  success  —  had  an  im- 
mense sale  already — immense. 

Bar.     No ! 


Of,  Casting:  the  Boomcrangf,  99 

Gas.  I  have  just  come  from  the  printers,  and  they  tell 
me  the  whole  edition  was  sold  out  an  hour  ago.  A  single 
buyer  took  the  whole  lot. 

Bar.  Quite  correct.  I  bought  it.  There  it  is.  {Point- 
ing to  basket  and  books ^ 

Gas.     You  ?     (Crosses  to  L.  c.) 

Bar.  Who  else  would  pay  good  money  for  such  rub- 
bish ? 

Gas.     Rubbish  ? 

Bar.  You've  printed  under  my  name  a  selection  of  the 
best  things  from  Shakespeare,  Tennyson,  Byron,  Scott,  and 
all  the  stars  in  the  literary  firmament. 

Cor.  I  say,  Gasleigh.  (Crosses  to  Gasleigh.)  Boom- 
erang.    (Laughs  quietly.') 

Gas.  You  were  right,  young  man.  You  were  right.  I've 
done  it,  too.     (Sinks  into  chair,  r.  c.) 

Bar.     And  the  "  Scattered  Leaflets  "  ? 

Gas.  (calmly,  but  heroically').     Are  scattered  forever. 

Mrs.  B.     How's  that  ? 

Gas.  My  theories  were  fallacious.  We  were  simply  ex- 
posing vanity  and  mediocrity  to  public  scorn.  (Starting  up.) 
We  must  take  the  other  track.  (Cojijidentially.)  I  have  an 
idea.  Let  us  start  a  paper  to  crush  the  amateur  poets  — 
the  poetical  ring.  We'll  call  it  the  "Waste  Basket,"  and 
put  'em  all  in  it. 

Bar.  (edging  off).  I'll  take  one  copy  for  a  week,  and 
longer,  if  it  lasts.  But  as  for  literature,  I'm  done.  My 
epitaph  shall  be  —  gone  to  meet  so  many  more.  (Goes  up 
to  Mrs.  Bargiss,  r.  c.)     Neat,  eh  ? 

Gas.  Then,  ha,  ha,  ha  !  You  give  up.  I'm  sorry  to  lose 
you.  You  wrote  good  enough  poetry  for  me,  my  good 
friend.  "  National  Bank.  Pay  to  the  order  of.  Three  hun- 
dred dollars."  Those  are  the  words  that  stir-  all  men's 
souls.     Well,  by-by.     No  other  way,  eh  ? 

Bar.  (r.  c).     Only  one  way.    The  way  out. 


1 00  Seven  -Twenty  -  Eight ; 

Gas.  pa,  ha  !  Very  good.  Very  good.  Well,  so  long. 
Good-by,  Shakespeare.     (£X/7]  l.  c.) 

Bar.  Good-by,  sweetheart,  good-by.  (To  Corliss.)  I 
believe  I  am  thoroughly  recovered  from  my  flight  of  folly, 
and  capable  of  taking  a  common-sense  view  of  the  common- 
place world.  What  was  it  you  wanted  to  say  to  me  as  I  was 
going  out  a  while  ago  ?  (Pu/s  his  hand  affectionately  on  Cor- 
liss's shoulder^ 

Cor.  Oh,  I  had  merely  come  to  ask  for  the  hand  of  your 
daughter. 

{READ  V  to  enter ^  Jessie,  l.  c.  ;  Flossy,  r.  id.; 
Hollyhock  afid  Mrs.  Hollyhock,  r.  3  e.  ;  Tam- 
BORiNi,  7vith  sealed  telegram,  l.  c. 

Bar.  (c,  gravely).     Did  you  speak  to  her  mother  ? 

Mrs.  B.  (r.).  He  did  —  and  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  decline. 
I  have  nothing  against  Mr.  Corliss,  but  I  have  other  views 
for  Florence.  ( With  emphasis^  The  happiness  of  my 
daughter  is  concerned,  and  I  mean  to  see  that  we  make 
{looking  at  Corliss)  no  blunder  about  that. 

Bar.  {aside  to  Corliss,  l.).  That  sounds  bad.  What  do 
you  think  of  it  ? 

CoR.  {aside  to  Bargiss).  I  think  she  is  casting  her  little 
boomerang. 

Bar.  It's  all  nonsense.  {To  Mrs.  Bargiss.)  What  have 
you  got  in  hand,  now  ?     No  more  surprises,  I  hope. 

Mrs.  B.   {knowingly).     Perhaps,  my  dear. 

Bar.     What  is  it? 

Mrs.  B.  I  can  whisper  this  much.  If  Lcan't  be  the  wife 
of  a  poet,  I  may  be  the  mother-in-law  of  an  earl. 

Bar.  Hypatia  Victoria  Bargiss !  The  events  of  the 
morning  have  unsettled  your  reason.     What  earl? 

Mrs.  B.  Lord  Lawntennis  has  seen  Florence's  portrait, 
and  intends  to  make  her  his  wife. 

ENTER  Jessie,  l.  c. 


Of,  Castmgf  the  Boomerang*  101 

Jessie.     Mr.  Tamborini,  ma'am.     May  he  come  up? 

ENTER  Flossy,  r.  i  d.     Hollyhock  and  Mrs.  Holly- 
hock steal  on,  r.  3  D. 

Mrs.  B.     Let  him  enter.     {To  Flossy.)     Ah,  my  child. 

ENTER  Tamborini,  l.  c,  waving  a  sealed  telegram  over  his 

head  jubilantly. 

Tamborini.  Signora,  it  is  come.  {Suddenly  sees  others 
and  bows?)  Signorine  !  Signori  1  {Resuming  jubilation^ 
It  is  here.    The  answer  —  the  message. 

Mrs.  B.  {crosses  to  Tamborini).  From  his  lordship  ?  For 
me  ? 

Tam.     Si,  Signora. 

Mrs.  B.   {putting  on  glasses  and  opening  it).     Let  me  see. 

Cor.  {gets  beside  Flossy,  r.  c).    You'll  stand  by  me  ? 

Flos.  (r.).     If  there  were  a  thousand  lords  against  us. 

Mrs.  B.  {has  read  the  telegram  ;  screams,  crumples  it  up,  and 
falls  into  a  chair).     Oh  !    Oh ! 

All.    What  is  it  ? 

[Mrs.  Bargiss  starts  up  and  throws  the  telegram  on 
theJlooK     Bargiss  picks  it  up  and  smooths  it  out. 

Tam.  {following  Mrs.  Bargiss  up  and  down).  But,  Si- 
gnora !     What  is  the  matter  ? 

Mrs.  B.  {fiercely).     Out  of  my  sight,  reptile. 

Tam.  {recoils).     Diavalo  /    Ma  dio  mio  / 

Bar.  {having  read  the  telegram,  blows  his  nose,  replaces 
handkerchief,  and  crosses  to  Corliss).  I  guess  you  can  have 
her.     {To  Mrs.  Bargiss.)     Can't  he,  my  dear  ? 

Mrs.  B.  {laying  her  head  on  Bargiss's  shoulder).  O 
Launcelot !     I  am  ashamed  of  myself. 

Bar.  {soothingly).  There,  there.  No  harm.  It  was  — 
ahem  —  only  another  proof  that  our  young  friend  was  right. 
We  all  make  fools  of  ourselves  sooner  or  later.  Your  turn 
came  rather  late.    {Gives  telegram  to  Flossy.)    You  may  like 


102  Seven  -Twenty  -  Eight  j 

to  read  his  lordship's  proposal,  my  love.     {Gives  telegram, 
and  crosses  to  r.) 

[Mrs.  Bargiss  gets  next  to  him.     Flossy  getting  c, 
followed  by  Corliss.     Tamborini  all  ears. 

Flos,  {reads).  "  Dear  madam  :  —  If  the  portrait  number 
728  was  that  of  your  daughter,  pardon  this  means  of  com- 
munication, and  permit  me  to  make  you  an  offer.  If  the 
dog  in  the  picture  is  for  sale,  I'll  pay  you  whatever  price  you 
name  for  him.     Lawntennis." 

Tam.  Vat  is  dat  ?  De  tog  !  Oh,  ciel !  I  kill  myself.  O 
Signorini,  I  kill  myself.  {Throws  himself  at  the  feet  of 
Flossy,  and  in  pantomime  gives  himself  several  imaginary 
stabs ;  then  bounds  «/>.)  I  will  not  live.  I  will  die.  Oh,  oh  ! 
{Doubles  himself  up  on  chair  at  back  and  remains  stupefied  till 
end.) 

Flos,  {to  Corliss).  Will  you  have  me  now.>  You  know 
I'm  not  such  a  prize,  after  being  jilted  by  an  earl. 

Cor.  Let  his  lordship  have  the  dog.  I  take  the  lady,  if 
she'll  take  me. 

Flos.     Take  you ! 

« 

"  If  in  the  works  of  nature  you  would  find 
Eternal  fitness,  women  should  be  kind." 

Cor.  {taking  her  hand). 

And  yet  how  many  play  a  tyrant's  part, 
Betray  a  worshipper,  or  break  a  heart, 
"With  gracious  flattery  will  turn  and  bend 
To  court  a  stranger,  yet  will  kill  a  friend. 

IRE  AD  Y  curtain. 
Flos,  {to  audience;  her  hand  lingering  in  that  of  Co^iass). 

Dear  girlhood  friends. 

We'll  be  not  like  them !     Though  we  cannot  choose. 

But  some  must  sue  whose  suit  we  must  refuse  ; 


Of^  Casting  the  Boomerang*  103 

io  base  a  pride  let  none  upon  us  prove, 
As  craves  a  hundred  lovers  —  not  one  love. 
Wear  for  your  jewel,  'tis  a  friend's  advice. 
Not  a  string  of  pebbles,  but  one  gem  of  price. 
Fear  not  to  marry  one  who  loves,  for  know, 
Tho'  woman  be  not  perfect,  love  is  so. 

{RING  curtain 
CURTAINo 


■  ■•  ■•\--:v,v'-^  'vx'y-S  .'■  ■•■  '-■■-■ 


.■'\\^P^'*^■•'^/        .'     '    "^ 


\y\ 


r  COMEDIES  AND  DRAMAS 

JOSIAH'S  COURTSHIP  PRICE  25  CENTS 

Comedy  in  4  acts,  by  H.  C.  Dale.  7  males,  4  females.  Easily  staged. 
Time,  2  hours.  Recommended  to  dramatic  clubs  in  want  of  sometEing 
with  good  comedy  feature  and  forceful  but  not  too  heavy  straight  business. 

THE  LAST  CHANCE  PRICE  25  CENTS 

Comedy  in  2  acts,  by  A.  E.  Bailey.  2  males,  12  females.  1  interior. 
Time,  1}4  hours.  Pull  of  action,  bright  and  witty  dialogue,  incidentally 
introducing  a  burlesque  on  "Lord  Ullin's  Daughter."  For  schools  and 
colleges. 


A  LEGAL  PUZZLE  PRICE  25  CENTS 

Farce  comedy  in  3  acts,  by  W.  A.  Tremayne.  7  males,  S  females.  3 
interiors.  Time,  2J4  hours.  This  play  can  be  highly  recommended,  the 
scenes  are  easy,  the  dialogue  brisk  and  snappy,  and  the  action  rapid. 

LODGERS  TAKEN  IN  PRICE  25  CENTS 

Comedy  in  3  acts,  by  L.  C.  Tees.  6  males,  4  females.  1  interior.  Time, 
2^^  hours.  A  husband  with  a  strong  case  of  the  "green-eyed  monster" 
taking  a  trip  abroad,  places  his  home  in  charge  of  a  ne'er-do-well  nephew. 
The  nephew  rents  the  roonis  to  tenants,  whope  divefsified  characters  pre- 
-  sent  great  opportunity  for  comedy  acting.  This  is  adapted  from  the  same 
work  upon  which  Wm.  Gillette's  famous  "All  the  Comforts  of  Home"  is 
based. 

MISTRESS  OF  ST.  IVES  PRICE  25  CENTS 

Drama  of  the  new  South  in  3  acts,  by  G.  V.  May.  7  males,  5  females. 
1  interior.  Time,  2J4  hours.  The  cast  has  a  typical  southern  planter  of 
olden  times,  his  two  daughters,  a  peppery  southern  major,  a  lawyer  from 
the  North,  a  comical  colored  valet,  etc.,  etc. 

NEVER  AGAIN  \  PRICE  25  CENTS 

Farce  in  3  acts,  by  A.  E.  Wills.  7  males,  S  females.  1  interior.  Time, 
2%.  hours.  Fletcher,  a  crabbed  husband,  refuses  a  reference  to  Dora,  a 
discharged  maid.  In  Marie,  the  new  maid,  he  discovers  an  attractive  dancer 
to  whom  he  had  been  very  attentive  at  a  recent  ball;  the  schemes  devised 
by  the  two  maids  to  punish  Fletcher  lead  to  many  amusing  complications 
and  to  an  unusual  climax. 

PETER  PIPER'S  TROUBLES  J>RICE  25  CENTS 

Comedy  in  4  acts,  by  J.  H.  Slater.  S  males.  3  females.  2  interiors. 
Time,  2J4  hours.  The  troubles  are  caused  largely  by  his  desire  to  oblige 
his  friends  and  are  of  a  social,  financial  and  business  variety,  all  of  which 
are  finally  overcome. 

PHYLLIS'S  INHERITANCE  PRICE  25  CENTS 

Comedy  in  3  acts,  by  F.  H.  Bernard.  6  males,  9  females.  1  interior,  1 
exterior.  Time,  2  hours.  Phyllis,  Philip's  wife,  is  to  inherit  a  fortune  from 
an  East  Indian  uncle,  provided  she  marries  his  adopted  son,  who  is  about 
to  visit  .her.  Two  men  call  with  introductory  letters,  which  she  does  not 
read,  supposing  each  in  turn  to  be  the  adopted  son. 

A  RUNAWAY  COUPLE  PRICE  25  CENTS 

Farce  in  2  acts,  by  W.  A.  Tremayne.  4  males,  ,4  females.  1  interior. 
Time,  2  hours.  A  married  man  of  nervous  temperament,  temporarily  in 
charge  of  an  eloping  lady,  while  the  husband-to-be  is  procuring  the  license, 
is  himself  accused  of  having  run  away  with  her.  The  arrival  of  the  abfent 
lover  relieves  the  situation  and  leads  to  an  unusually  effective  climax. 

TOO  MANY  HUSBANDS  PRICE  25  CENTS 

Farce  in  2  acts,  by  A.  E.  Wills.  8  males,  4  females.  1  interior.  Time, 
2  hours.  The  action  is  continuous,  dialogue  snappy  and  climax  so  unex* 
pected,  that  this  farce  can  be  recommended  as  one  of  the  most  laughaUc 


